Parallel Paths
by LadyRudo
Summary: While everyone finds their reasons to fight, Vincent spends his last night in an unexpected way, with unexpected company. A chance encounter with a former Turk propels him toward a prodigious fate. Vincent/OC
1. Last Meal

"You can't fight without a reason, right? So, I won't hold it against you if you don't come back."

The words echoed in his mind as he approached the entrance to the top plate of Midgar. He knew he would go back. He would fight alongside the people who pulled him from his slumber. Perhaps misplaced loyalty was to blame. Perhaps the sense of camaraderie everyone had been mentioning was creeping in under his cloak.

He shook off these thoughts as he navigated the bustling streets of the dying city. The slums had been evacuated, but the upper level, the upper class, had refused to believe in the threat of destruction.  
>"If I'm going to die, I'm going to do it in the comfort of my own home! I'm not going down with a bunch of strangers, huddled together like cattle in a basement," he heard one man in a Venetian suit telling another.<br>As he attempted to slide through the streets unnoticed, he silently prayed that his destination still existed. It had been thirty-one years since he'd last been there, but the place was a Midgar legend, unlikely to go down easily.  
>He turned a rain-slicked street corner and sighed in relief. <em>Grey Haus <em>stood before him, smelling of steak, cooked vegetables, and decadence. His eyes closed briefly as he inhaled the aroma of the upscale restaurant, memories of countless meals eaten alone and with fellow Turks of the past flooding his senses. The images of the Turks of old rapidly transformed into the haunting images of the new Shinra elite: Tseng, Rude, Elena, Reno. His brow furrowed as he opened his eyes and continued into the restaurant.  
>It had changed very little in the last thirty years. The walls were a new dark red, the floor still shiny black marble. The tables were still dark wood, decorated with single candles, as silver hanging lamps poured pools of light onto the centers of the table, leaving the patrons in shadows.<br>He scanned the dining area quickly, and found the corner table in the rear of the building was once reserved only for Turks, which, more often than not, meant him and him alone. It was unoccupied.  
>"Hello, and welcome to <em>Grey Haus<em>, sir," a young Wuitaian woman greeted him. "How many?" Her accent was thick.  
>"One."<br>She raised her eyebrows involuntarily, but quickly regained her professionalism. A more common man may not have even noticed her brief surprise. After collecting a single menu, she began to lead him into the dining room.  
>"Miss, I was wondering if that seat was available," he commented, pointing with his right hand, so as not to draw any more attention to himself. Patrons were already sizing him up: messy, long hair; tattered cloak; boots that clacked with each step; a gun. They all disapproved, even having been shielded from his most frightening feature by the blood red cape.<br>"Of course!" she said, as she quickly led him to the back, glad to be hiding him away from the majority of the restaurant.

As he waited for his meal to arrive, he stared at the candle on his table. Images of old friends, long dead or retired, seeped into his mind. He recalled his first experience at this very restaurant as a new Turk.  
><em>"I've heard of this place. This is where the ShinRa host their annual Christmas party."<em>  
><em> His partner smiled and nodded emphatically. "Best place for steak on the top plate! They have a reserved table for us and everything. We get taken care of here, man."<em>  
><em> "I don't think I can afford this. I haven't even gotten my first paycheck."<em>  
><em> His blond partner let out a laugh and put his muscular arm around his thin shoulders. "Live a little. I'll pick up the check, you can pay me back."<em>  
>Just as he closed his eyes to let his mind continue to reminisce, the image of his blond mentor began to darken. A gunshot sounded in his mind, and his partner lay dead on a street. Frustration crept in as he failed to remember where his partner's death occurred. Before he could think of a more pleasant image, his former partner's face blurred, as though a wet watercolor. It reformed into familiar face, lying slain in the street: Cloud.<br>His eyes snapped open and refocused on the candle, ears tuning into the low jazz playing over the restaurant. As he picked up his glass of red wine, he reminded himself that he did not come here to worry.

Satisfied, he slid his half-eaten meal toward the edge of the table and leaned against the back of his chair. As he ran his finger around the base of of his newly filled glass, he felt a pair of eyes on him.  
>He was accustomed to being watched in public places. His appearance drew attention. However, this attention usually came in the form of quick glances and hushed whispers; not full fledged, bold staring. His eyes flitted around the room, finding no source for the burning sensation of being watched. A moment later, he disguised his attempt to find the eyes behind a drawn out sip of wine.<br>There.  
>A woman sitting alone at the small bar raised her eyebrows at him from behind square, mirrored sunglasses. She turned and briefly spoke with the bartender, pointing at the once Turk-exclusive table. Then, to his surprise, she stood, adjusted her long, black sleeves, and headed straight for him.<br>He stiffened as she approached the table with a half-smile playing on her lips.  
>"This seat taken?" she asked lightheartedly.<br>Stretching to sit as tall as possible, he remained silent. She was not leaving. He narrowed his eyes slightly as she sat down across from him.

"Last meal?" she asked, while eyeing his half-eaten meal.  
>"Of sorts." He remained on guard. Shinra walked this city in all forms.<br>"Yeah. Me, too," she thoughtlessly added. A new waitress arrived at the table with two stout glasses of clear liquor.  
>He analyzed her posture, facial expressions. She was remarkably relaxed.<br>"So, Vincent Valentine, what's the plan? For the night, I mean."  
>"How do you know my name?" he asked, fingers resting on the butt of his pistol, claws stretching out on his thigh.<br>"Well," she started, as she pushed a glass toward him and took one for herself. She raised the glass halfway to her lips. "There's a good chance we're both dying tomorrow. Surely you have some plan for your last night," she said, downing her drink in one swallow.  
>"Look, miss, I don't know how you..." he started. She interrupted his thought.<br>"I'm a Turk."  
>He drew his gun and aimed it directly at her left eye with remarkable silence. She sat up straight and tilted her head.<br>"...but I won't be tomorrow. Reeve Tuesti. Friend of yours?"  
>He lowered the gun and nodded.<br>"Mine, too. He's already out of Shinra. Free. I probably won't be so lucky. Then again, if you're unlucky tomorrow, I guess we all will be," she said with a noticeable bitterness.  
>He glanced around the restaurant as she spoke.<br>"Don't worry. These people have no idea what's about to happen. They believe the media is somehow making this up for monetary profit. These suits don't part with their money easily. Evacuation attempts proved futile up here. Fools."  
>"You're still here," he remarked.<br>She laughed a single, smooth laugh. "Touche. But, I'm on my way out. I had to enjoy one last fillet before I left Midgar forever! Juno, this chef, is a genius." She smiled to herself, and he noticed a quick flicker of concern on her brow. "Well, good luck tomorrow. I hope that robot pulls its weight, for once," she remarked, starting to rise from her seat.  
>"Wait."<br>She reclaimed her spot, resting her elbows on the edge of the table. Her dark brown hair was pulled tight into a braid that fell over her left shoulder as she leaned on her arms.  
>"Who are you?" he asked, not expecting a straight answer from a Turk.<br>"Well, that's complicated." _And expected,_he thought. "Today, I'm Penelope Marx. Tomorrow, I haven't decided."  
>"You're leaving Shinra. Why?" he inquired quietly but forcefully.<br>She smirked and cocked her head to the right. "Are you serious? Look at what they've done. When did you join AVALANCHE, again? Reeve told me you knew what was going on..." she joked.  
>"Why now? Why not months ago, when this started?"<br>"Ah. Good question, with a simple answer. Money," she responded.  
>He shook his head dismissively.<br>"Of course you think that's heartless. But I have a family that needs the help. And sure, there are plenty of jobs around this place. Why stick it out with the blue eyed devil? You were one of us. How many Turks did you see retire? Leave the company gracefully? Or on their own two feet?" she asked, her voice adopting a razor sharp tone. "You don't leave the Turks. The Turks leave you. In an alley, at the bottom of a river, in your own goddamn apartment," she spat, alluding to a string of so-called suicides among the Turks that had occurred ten years before, during a near overthrowing of the president by some displeased Shinra employees.  
>"So you think they'll come after you?"<br>She said nothing.  
>"It seems unlikely. Shinra is weak right now. I doubt they have the resources to spare to chase after a rogue," he said, unsure if he was trying to comfort her or simply make her leave his table. She shrugged her shoulders, as if he was missing some vital information.<br>"And who would want to? Rufus is dead, there is no leader. Shinra is crumbling." At this, she raised her head. Vincent knew immediately there was something he was missing.  
>"Well, either way, I'm leaving town. I have a hometown, people who miss me. And I want to see them again. And honestly, there is no better night. Do you know what today is?" she asked, a new excitement in her voice.<br>"I've lost track," he admitted.  
>"Today is the first day of Harvest."<br>He pulled his head back and repressed a groan. This holiday had not been meaningful since before Midgar was built. There were no more farmers in the area. "Who celebrates that?"  
>"True, it's a dying tradition around here." She scanned the restaurant filled with seemingly angry men and the women who tolerate them for their money, and laughed. "Everything seems to be. <em>However<em>, it's a huge time of celebration in my town. Music, games, dancing, fireworks. ...Drinking. What else could a girl ask for on a night like tonight?"  
>He felt an invitation coming.<br>"So, you just sit here are sulk, and think of me dancing my ass off under the midnight moon." She reached out to touch his arm, caught him pull back slightly, and stopped herself. Instead, she pulled her black sleeves back over her toned, fair arms. As she did so, he recognized the top she wore as the uniform of an Officer. _She would have ranked even above Tseng. _ _Of course she's worried about assassination,_ he thought. _She's in too deep, even for times like these._  
>"Good luck, again," Penelope remarked, and headed back to the bar. Vincent watched her grab the trademark navy blue suit jacket from a silver coat rack. As she pulled the jacket on he caught glimpse of a gold pin on her lapel. <em>Gaia, she's a Legend.<em>  
>She slid three coins across the bar to the bartender; a man she seemed to know well. They exchanged farewells and Penelope headed for the door, removing a key-chain from her pants pocket.<br>Struck with an intense desire to follow Penelope to her rambunctious hometown, Vincent quickly weighed his options. Following her meant abandoning his plan for peace and reflection on what might be his last night alive. As the door closed behind her, he knew that peace would not come, no matter his choice.


	2. The Festival

The sun was beginning its descent behind the mountainous walls of the Cosmo area. Vincent avoided watching it from the backseat of an Intercontinental taxi, the driver of which he had paid well to follow a certain green motorcycle closely, but inconspicuously.  
>"Stay back," he ordered the driver, as they watched Penelope park her vehicle at the base of the entrance to Cosmo. Through the closed windows of the car Vincent could hear music playing in the town. Penelope ascended the stairs and vanished into the village. Only then did Vincent pay the rest of the fare and order his driver to return in the morning for a trip to the Northern Continent.<br>The village was ablaze with celebration. There were five campfires burning instead of the single fire he'd seen before. Musicians meandered through the grounds playing upbeat tunes, to which villagers danced fanatically. Most were dressed in short sleeves and sleeveless tops, short pants and skirts, showing off their tan, golden skin.  
>"Mr. Valentine! I never thought I'd see you again!"<br>Vincent turned his head sharply, finding a young man standing behind him with a broad smile on his face. It was the same man who had welcomed him weeks before, when he, Cloud, and Nanaki had come to discover Bugenhagen's failing health.  
>"You must have come to join the Harvest celebration! Is everyone here with you?" the young man asked excitedly.<br>"I'm afraid I'm alone, this time," Vincent replied, without the heart to tell him that the rest were preparing for a battle from which they may not emerge.  
>"Oh. ...Well, please, make yourself at home. A friend of Nanaki is a friend to us all. I'd book a room with Cherro first. Her inn fills up quickly at Harvest time!"<br>"I'll do that. Thank you," he responded quietly. Watching his surroundings carefully, he headed up the familiar steps to the Inn. The setting sun was surprisingly hot on his back.

The room was small, but comfortable, decorated in imitation Ancient Cosmo artwork. On the dresser lay two sets of what he determined to be "Harvest" wear: two sleeveless tan shirts; one for a woman, one for a man; a pair of breezy cotton pants, and a tan skirt with red flowers decorating the hem. There were several strings of flowers for necklaces and bracelets, headbands and belts.  
>Vincent looked himself over in a mirror, then glanced out his window and down at the revellers below. He removed his cape and folded it tightly on the bed. Then he removed his black glove, setting it atop the cape. He removed the golden sabatons from his boots in two quick motions. He unwound his headband in response to the heat of the Canyon sun. Rolling up his one long black sleeve, he considered himself festive enough, and walked out the door.<br>Upon stepping out onto the sandy ground he heard the familiar voice.  
>"Jovan! Callie! I've missed you so much!" he heard Penelope shout over the music.<br>His eyes found her standing in the middle of a group of eight people, all reaching for her and hugging her. Penelope's voice did not match the face of the stern-looking Turk who approached him at _Grey Haus_, though. She was vastly transformed.  
>Vincent slid through the crowds of people and settled into the corner of a makeshift bar against a shop wall. He furrowed his brow as he watched his dinner companion.<br>She had exchanged her Turk uniform, all but the sunglasses, for traditional Harvest garb: a sleeveless beige cotton shirt that showed off more muscular arms than he anticipated, and white cotton pants. She was lean, but clearly strong. Her top laced up her left side with sheer white ribbon. Through this ribbon he could make out a black tattoo that started below her belt line and scaled her back. She also had two indistinguishable tribal-esque lines that ran the length of each of her triceps.  
>"I'm glad she's back. I've been so nervous about her for the last few days, with all the trouble Shinra's been having," a woman further up the bar said to a young man. Both were fully decked out in Harvest linens and red flowers.<br>"Well, this gives us one more thing to celebrate! Drinks for everyone, Barkeep! One round on me!" the young man shouted. All of the bar patrons cheered, even though all the drinks were free for the festival anyway.  
>Vincent was handed a syrupy orange concoction, swirling with red lines.<br>"To Aria!" the young man toasted.  
>"To Aria!" the crowd around the bar shouted back, despite half of them whispering amongst themselves, "Who?"<br>Vincent raised the glass to his lips in unison with the bar goers, and just as he began to down the sweet drink, Penelope turned her head in appreciation toward the cheer at the bar.  
><em>Aria? <em>  
>He sank further back into his corner as she approached this crowd.<br>"Welcome home!" the bartender called over the music.  
>She smiled in response and saluted the older man behind the bar. With the same hand, she then tucked her long brown hair behind her ear. Her hair was wild in the breeze, flowing over her shoulders and glittering in the setting sun. She had small red and white flowers cascading from behind her left ear. Vincent subtly let his eyes wander from her sunglasses-hidden eyes to her waist, where three strings of red flowers served as a decorative belt around her breezy white pants.<br>"So who's dancing with me tonight?" she asked over the crowd. Three young men leaped from their bar stools and flanked her. At this she laughed a genuine laugh that crept into Vincent as warmth. Hiding in the shadow of a wooden awning, he felt safe to watch her, and found that he could not turn his eyes away.

There was only a glimpse of sun left over the canyon as an announcement was made through a megaphone.

"As the sun says its final farewell for this season, please, find your way to a fire and join us in thanking it for our health, our happiness, our warmth, and our spirit! Dance, people of Cosmo, in thanks for another year of life!"

He had no time to find the emcee giving these instructions before he was roughly dragged from his corner seat out into the open of the village. A tall woman covered in flowers held his wrist, and he felt relieved that she had grabbed his right one. She let go of him as they approached the central bonfire, and disappeared to dance with a more responsive partner. Across the fire he spotted Penelope dancing with two young women, both visibly younger, one bright blond, one with hair the color of Nanaki. She had no trouble keeping up with the two girls who strongly reminded Vincent of Yuffie.

He let the dancing people push past him and knock into him as he watched Penelope. She spun in circles with her arms wide open, laughing wholeheartedly with her friends. At the command of the unseen emcee, she grabbed onto redhead and planted an emphatic kiss on her cheek. Vincent had no time to hide before he was grabbed by an older woman who smelled heavily of the sweet orange liquor. She planted a sticky kiss on his pale cheek and meandered away cheering.

As he wiped his cheek with the back of his hand the music started to quiet and people started heading back to their seats. Penelope's fireheaded companion shouted, "You know, you don't have to wear those things around us. Besides, you won't be able to see once the sun is down!"

Vincent found his seat at the bar and settled in again. Drinks, music, good cheer. This was not his norm, yet he was appreciative that Penelope had led him here, whether she intended to or not.

He ordered another orange concoction, as it seemed to be the Harvest special, and let his mind wander. Cosmo was a quiet town, full of spiritualists and students of the planet. He found it hard to believe such a peaceful village could be so wild in their celebration. He felt undeniably comfortable in the wild atmosphere. The people were kind, genuinely wanting one another to enjoy the night.  
>The sun was gone, and a fresh wildness had rolled in. The bar became a far more central point. Uneasy with the increased attention he had started to receive, Vincent slipped away from the bar and resettled on the stairs to the inn, where he could better view the festivities.<br>Young men rode the waves of the crowd's uplifted arms around the central fire. Around a small fire by the main entrance older villagers exchanged memories of Harvest Festivals past while sharing a decorative pipe. He raised his head at the sound of excited screams and saw Penelope hoisted up a muscular man's shoulders. A crowd was shifting its center from a bonfire to this glowing woman, now eight feet tall. The crowd was chanting emphatically around her, trying to persuade to commit some act to which she adamantly refused.  
>"I'll kill someone! I haven't done that in years!" she yelled out at someone in the crowd. Her sunglasses were glowing with the reflection of the ceremonious fires.<br>"For Gaia! For the Harvest!" someone replied in a persuasive holler.  
>An older woman by the bar was wrapping a long wooden stick with a white fabric. She handed it to the bartender, who returned it soaking with a clear, and Vincent supposed flammable, liquor. The woman danced over to the center fire and lit her torch triumphantly. The crowd around Penelope buzzed with excitement. Penelope was shaking her head while baring her teeth in a half-threatening smile.<br>Vincent stood and moved toward the crowd, interested in the imminent feat.  
>The old woman passed the torch through the crowd. Each person that touched it whispered emphatically at the flame. Penelope's blond friend forced a bottle of red liquid into her hand.<br>"She used to do this every year for us," said an old man who had stepped up to Vincent's side, still a safe distance from the wild crowd.  
>"What is this?" he asked in return.<br>"Well, everyone that touches the torch puts his sorrow into the flame. For many of us, it is the passing of Bugenhagen this year. Once the torch makes it up to her, she blows the flame into the sky, sending all the sorrow and anger away from our village. This is truly a treat. Aria hasn't been here for the last six Harvests. There is much sorrow to be sent away."  
>"Aria?" Vincent asked as he watched the torch pass from villager to villager.<br>"Up there." He pointed to Penelope. "She was young when she left. Most of the people here probably don't even know who she is, we've had such a turnover." The old man then made his way back to the entrance fire to sit and watch.  
>Penelope, who Vincent now knew by her birth name, Aria, took the torch from a frail-looking woman with white hair. A second man approached and nodded to the one holding Aria on his shoulders. Together, they raised her from sitting to standing with one foot on each man's shoulder, their large hands supporting her legs. Vincent felt a rush of warmth as her laughter quieted and she raised the torch over her head.<br>"For you, Gaia. For the Harvest. For Bugenhagen," she said, barely audible above the crowd. At Bugenhagen's name, the crowd quieted enough to hear howls coming from the top of the canyon. Vincent knew Nanaki was spending the night with his father, and nodded in agreement with his howl for his grandfather.  
>Aria then lowered the torch and raised the glass bottle to her mouth. Her head leaned far back before she raised it again. She removed her sunglasses. With closed eyes, she breathed fire.<br>The flame from the torch exploded outward. Streaks of blue light sparkled through the fire in the air. The crowd gazed at the sight. The blaze seemed endless. Finally, it slowed, and flickered out into smoke; the torch, spent. She smiled and turned her back to the crowd. Everyone raised their arms simultaneously and welcomed her body, letting her ride atop their appreciative hands.


	3. Glowing in the Dark

According to the emcee, there was an hour left before midnight. Vincent did not know what significance midnight held for the festival, but he was willing to bet it would only get wilder, judging by Aria, then Penelope's, remarks at the restaurant only five hours before.  
>He had been passed several glasses of the sweet orange liquid that seemed to be fueling much of the night's excitement, and by this point, was feeling a looseness in his muscles that he had not felt in thirty years. His senses were still sharp, but, as he'd slipped back into his more comfortable place at the corner of the bar, he was no longer making the determined attempt to hide from Aria. It showed, quickly.<br>"This is better, isn't it?" the slightly hoarse, feminine voice whispered directly into his ear.  
>Knowing the jig was up, he turned to face her, and failed to hide his surprise at her eyes. She stared back with lavender irises that deepened into violet at the edges. They glowed, like their owner.<br>"And so you see the cause for shades," she said.  
>"You knew I'd come?" he asked, golden claw no longer in hiding, and gripping a glass of the orange sweetness.<br>She smirked and hopped up onto the bar stool next to his. "No. But, I knew you had no family, limited friends, and had been kicked off the ship for the night. I'd hoped you weren't going back to that mansion, and we both know you have no home in Midgar. Even Juno would have kicked you out eventually," she replied with a practiced confidence.  
>"You seem to be quite the hero around here," he remarked, as two men spent a moment too long glancing at her in passing.<br>She laughed. "Please. Few of these people actually know who I am. Some of the elders remember me. My close friends, most of whom are gone, have missed me. Everyone else is just high on the Harvest."  
>"And this," he said, tapping a pointed gold finger against his glass.<br>"_This_," she started, in a smooth, knowing voice, "is poison. Don't get me wrong, it's delicious, but the sweetness will kill you." She raised her arm to the bartender, who slid a thin bottle of clear liquor down the bar to her. "_This, _on the other hand, is like liquefied diamonds. It's amazing." She raised the bottle to her lips, ignoring the glass that had been passed down to her for just such a purpose. As she lowered it, her eyes widened. "How rude of me! Here," she said, passing the bottle to Vincent.  
>He raised an eyebrow. At her encouraging nod, however, he tried a swallow. It was shockingly cool as it passed through his throat. As he exhaled, however, he expected flames.<br>"Right?" she said, taking the bottle back. "So, this is your festival getup, huh?" she joked. "You insult our sun with this." She began untangling her flower belts.  
>A woman sitting near them overheard, and in agreement, took off her own white flower necklace and placed it around Vincent's neck. She sloppily assaulted his cheek with her mouth. "Much better," the stranger slurred, as he wiped his face for the second time.<br>"Lucky you," Aria noted, raising her eyebrows as the woman stumbled away. "You've been blessed."  
>"That's not what it feels like," he replied.<br>"Ha! A joke! It's working!" she cried, holding up her treasured bottle. She then removed one of her own flowered belts and draped it over his shoulder, around the back of his neck. "You don't need skill. Nor determination. Nor intelligence. What shall I bless you with, friend?" she asked, gently placing a hand on each of his shoulders.  
>Unaccustomed to the touch, he struggled to keep from pulling away. "Survival."<br>"Wise. Then, Vincent, I bless you with the gift of survival." She placed her lips against his forehead.  
>Defenses weakened by the multiple spirits he had consumed, he found himself slightly leaning into the touch of her lips. She smiled against his skin, then pulled away.<br>"Stay here," she commanded, then vanished into the crowd.  
>He searched the faces for hers, then slipped his fingers around her prized bottle. Assured she would not catch him, he took a longer swallow of the liquid fire.<br>She returned moments later with a small plastic jar in her hand and without speaking, commanded him to follow her back to the inn.

"You're staying?" she said, once inside the quieter lobby of the inn.  
>"I am."<br>"Well, how could you not?" she replied humorously. "This place is going to get crazy in a minute. Everyone comes indoors for half an hour before midnight. You know, to prepare."

"I _don't_ know. What else could possibly happen?" he inquired. This entire experience was foreign.

This made her laugh even louder. "Midnight! The season change. The moon change?"

He shook his head.

"Well, you came on the right night, friend. Do you have a room?"

He narrowed his eyes and she rolled hers just before slinging her arm around his shoulder.

They sat on the double bed across from each other, a smile fighting for dominance on her face.

"Are you going to continue in this, this...shadow?" she asked, gesturing toward his clothes.

"I am." He answered, stiffening as she became more aggressive in her attempt to unbutton his collar. With a gentle swipe, he refused her prying hands.

"Alright. But you're carrying everything with you into the new season if you do. You have a chance to start fresh, to be cleansed. Tonight," she persisted, opening the jar.

The idea was welcoming: to start new, to be pure. He had learned much about himself in the past few weeks, and felt drawn to the chance to renew. But this was superstition.

"I'm okay with that."

"Hmph. Liar," she called him out. "Well, what will you have? War paint? Tribal markings?"

He watched as she covered her left arm in a thin layer of white cream. The jar was divided into five small sections of white, blue, red, black, and purple.

"You can be whatever you want. We're virtually unrecognizable out there," explained, dragging her fingernails through the gel, scraping it away in claw-mark designs. "The moon changes, and we light in our old bodies. As the moon fades into the first dawn, our old bodies fade into our new. So on and so on..." she drawled while painting her arm.

Several minutes later, she returned from the bathroom and stood, finished, in front of him. The paint was too translucent for him to make out most of her designs.

"I've got it. It's perfect," she stated in matter-of-fact tone. "May I?" she requested, reaching her fingers toward his face.

He bristled and turned his head slightly.

"Vincent. What's gone wrong tonight? Exhale," she pleaded.

He sighed and brushed his hair out of his face.

She was quick, but remarkably detailed in her work. He struggled again to sit still against her fingers, sighing and occasionally grunting in frustration. While Aria watched her work intently he succumbed to his staring. Her eyes glowed even in the dim light of the room. She smirked, pleased with her work, and met his gaze.

"You're welcome," she joked, hopping off the bed to look out the window. "The fires are out. It's almost time. Come on," she said, heading for the door.

"You left these," he said before she was gone, holding up the multiple strands of flowers she'd removed to work.

"Trust me, they won't belong."

.

The masses of people standing around the extinguished fires were amazingly silent. Aria pulled Vincent into the center of the quiet crowd and handed him the glass bottle once they'd settled into a spot. He took a long pull from the bottle and mentally surrendered to this night. It had taken him remarkably far from his dreary expectations, and with Aria holding his golden claw firmly in her hand, he decided to trust it. Tomorrow, he decided, he would return to what he knew.

The moon slid behind dark clouds and the crowd began to buzz with anticipation. Moments later, the moon emerged and send a wave of light pouring over the crowd, lighting their painted bodies. The festival began anew as the crowd roared with celebration.

Vincent's breath escaped him at the sight of the bodies glowing around him. He'd seen nothing like it. As his eyes returned to Aria, he startled. Most of the women around him had painted themselves as devilishly playful fairies. They were vixens, he supposed, shedding their sexually charged bodies for purer ones. These women were clearly made up to attract men. Aria was the opposite.

Her left arm appeared sliced by an animal. Her right had bullet holes starring its surface. Across her neck was a vivid slash of red paint. On her face were blue tears streaming down the right side, four white horizontal lines on her left. She'd drawn thin red tally marks for her eyebrows. He counted twenty four. Unlike the rest of the women, she did not paint her mouth bright red, but instead blue. The only feminine touch she'd added was to her eyes, where purple wings extended from the outer corners, and points formed at the inner corners. She was frightening.

"What...are you?" he asked, leaning toward her reluctantly.

The smile she wore with the crowd faded from thrill to sadness. "What do you and I carry with us? Hmm? ...Let me put it this way: I'm the other half of you." She led him a few steps back toward the inn and shoved him in front a metal wall that had been arranged for the villagers to admire their handiwork.

In the moonlight his neck glowed red and white with painted flames that licked up his jawline. The rest of his face made even him uneasy. His face had decayed into a white skull. His cheeks were hollowed out with black, like his eyes, mouth, and nose. He was speechless at her striking attention to detail, and noticed that people were not standing as close to him as they had been earlier in the evening.

"You are the face of death," she said, stepping into the reflection beside him. "I'm the victims. Tonight, we let them go."

In the moonlight, the atmosphere of the festival had taken a turn. No longer were the villagers innocently dancing to old folk songs around bonfires and telling tales of the days of old. The elders had disappeared and been replaced with a younger generation. The air was electrified with a charge Vincent had only experienced once before, as a teenager, in an underground nightclub. These people were a new kind of wild, and the grounds were quickly buzzing with sexual tension.

The music had changed from jigs to tribal, percussion-heavy songs. He could not tell when one song began and another ended.

"This is a new look," he heard a gruff voice speak loudly. When he turned to the source, he found a shorter man sliding his arms around Aria's waist from behind. "Most of these girls are so desperate to be looked at on this night. What's your story?" he asked, poorly hiding his interest in the gap in the side of her shirt.

"Oh, I've got so many stories," she replied smoothly, slipping out of his arms just as easily and gliding out of his reach, leaving Vincent behind.

The same move was soon made on him. Two slender arms wrapped around his stomach and he very nearly took the perpetrator to the ground before remembering where he was.

"I've been watching you, ya know," a young voice purred. "You're Aria's brother, right?"

He raised an eyebrow at this misconception. "Not exactly," he replied, still not sure how to remove his body from the woman's grasp without hurting her.

"Oh. Wishful thinking, I suppose. I mean, I see how you're watching her. But, if you want," she said, far less suave than she thought, "you can watch me, instead." She stepped around in front of him and he smirked at her overtly sexual makeup. She was indistinguishable from a majority of the other young women on the grounds.

"I'm flattered by your offer," he started, as he separated her arms from his waist, "but I think I have to decline."

Instead of navigating the wild crowd, he simply stepped away, back to the bar, which now glowed with hanging lanterns and the same paint that covered their bodies. The bartender handed him another glass of the Harvest special. _"This is poison." _He took his chances.

Not long after he finished half of the drink, another pair of arms snaked around his shoulders. He instantly recognized the painted claw marks and helplessly leaned back against Aria's chest.  
>"Are you finally relaxing? And it only took, what, six hours? Or is this just exhaustion?" she spoke into his ear.<br>He grunted a laugh at the concept of exhaustion. He'd not felt it since his reawakening months ago. His body was too far from human for it.  
>"Why, 'Penelope?'" he asked, surprising himself.<br>"That was my sister's name. I had a twin. She was killed when we were young. Somehow, even at twenty, I knew I should have some kind of barrier between me and Shinra."  
>Instead of offering sympathy for her loss, he blurted out, "Smart girl."<br>She smiled against him. "No shit."  
>"You're a Legend."<br>"Oh, that's a story for another time," she brushed off the comment and slipped her arms out from under his. "I know you have to sleep at some point, or at least rest," she queried, hoping he would deny the accusation.  
>"You don't know me as well as you thought," he responded.<br>She raised her hand once more to the bartender. A minute later she had shoved a black shot glass into his hand and held onto one of her own for dear life. "To...?" she began a toast.  
>"Survival," he finished.<br>"Survival," she agreed and they downed the fiery liquid together.

Three painful shots later, Aria had dragged Vincent back into the crowd. He swayed less to the music and more to remain upright and focused on her rhythmic movement. One large fire had started again in the center of the grounds, around which villagers were dancing for light and warmth. Aria had forced their way right to the edge of the fire and surrendered to the music while Vincent watched, transfixed.  
>She threw her arms over her head and swayed her hips to the tribal rhythms. Some were singing, but she did not know this song well. Her eyes had closed minutes ago and did not open again until a drunk dancer had knocked Vincent directly into her.<br>He grabbed her arms to steady them and felt a shiver cross her body. Immediately, he pulled his left hand away. She grabbed it back before he could react and placed it on her side, repositioning his right hand to slide down her left side. He watched intently as his fingers lightly caught in the lace of her shirt.  
>A slower, simple song started on a guitar, and several villagers joined in singing to one another, "I saw you standing in the corner, on the edge of a burning light!"<br>A smile broke out across Aria's face and she pulled her new dance partner closer. Despite the suddenly uncountable drinks, his body was rigid against hers. She squeezed his shoulders then slid her hands up into his hair. It was his turn to shiver.  
>"Exhale," she reminded him.<br>"Aria, we don't know one another," he started to protest. She would not hear it.  
>"What's to know? I'm not asking you to marry me. I just want to dance with you. We're on parallel paths, here, and I think this night will serve us well," she explained. He wanted to question the meaning of 'this night,' but reminded himself that he had chosen to give in to it.<br>"Don't fight it any longer. Come to me again in the cold, cold night," she sang into his ear with a smile as they swayed side to side gently to an easy beat. Several villagers stared for one second too long.

Several songs and dances later, Aria lifted her head from Vincent's chest and looked questioningly into his burgundy eyes.  
>"Are we done here?" she asked.<br>He nodded, as he had grown weary of women bumping into him when Aria was not looking.  
>She nodded in agreement and began to lead him back toward the inn. Also weary of being dragged, Vincent pulled her back, nearly causing her to lose her balance. He continued walking alongside her. "Parallel paths," he reminded her. She raised her tally mark eyebrows and nodded.<p>


	4. Scars

Once back in the comfort of artificial light, much of Aria's paint was invisible again. Vincent was not as lucky. He startled a bit upon seeing his disheveled appearance mixed with Aria's frightening work of art on his face.  
>"I need to shower," he said mostly to himself. No response.<br>Upon glancing back out into the bedroom from the bathroom, he found Aria passed out directly in the center of the bed. He shook his head and smirked at her speedy departure from consciousness. After approaching cautiously and receiving no response, Vincent proceeded to remove her white shoes. They were mostly thick fabric, and slid off easily. Underneath he discovered a small tattoo of a wing on the outside of each of her ankles.  
>"Mercury..." he mused. He could not help but wonder what other markings she had, but brushed the thought aside and headed back to the bathroom.<p>

Steam filled the small room quickly. He absentmindedly let the water run as he began to undress. He reached for his headband and upon touching his own skin, the image of Aria's lips touching him there flashed into his affected mind. Having let a sense of guilt slip away and into a bonfire, he closed his eyes and let the image stay.  
>Next, he began to unclasp the buttons at the top of his thick shirt. Within seconds, Aria's fingers were touching him again, as they had reached for him before. They moved down his chest, button by button, barely grazing the white skin underneath. He replayed the first laugh he'd heard from her, when she was surrounded by admirers, her skin glowing in the sun. The corners of his mouth twitched in response.<br>A cool hand connected with his abdomen and memory gave way to imagination. With the slightly cocky smirk she donned so well, his image of Aria slid the tips of her fingers into the waist of his military pants. An overtly masculine thought wished her to kneel, but he knew her too well now. He respected this wild, legend of a woman. She knelt for no man.

The heavy steam began to fill his lungs and he was pulled from his visions. After lowering the water temperature, he discarded the remainder of his clothing as thoughtlessly as possible and stepped into the shower.

The water was now cool on his skin as he let it spray directly onto his face. Dark paint came down in streams from his neck and colored the water as it drained. He leaned against the side wall of the shower and kept his eyes closed.

His mind carried him back to his companions. They would all reunite the following afternoon after spending time with their loved ones in comforting familiarity. He had set himself apart again, spending his free night in a world he had not known existed with a woman he'd never met. A smile nearly broke out at the thought.

Believing most of the paint to be rinsed away, he warmed the water again to the point of steaming. Thanks to his bodily alterations, his normal body temperature had lowered four degrees and he was almost always cold. He dipped the rest of his head into the stream and let his hair be soaked, sticking to his neck and back.

After lathering and rinsing his entire body twice, this being the first shower he had not been rushed through in a long time, he stood once more, motionless, in the hot water. The image of the villagers' bodies lighting up under the new moon replayed. Then the dancing by the fire. Then Aria, as she jumped through the fire with a friend. Then her wild hair as she spun in circles under a trance of the tribal music. Something stirred in him at the sight, and he found himself authentically hoping she would be safe from the wrath of Shinra. As a Legend, however, there were likely few who could harm her if they tried.

"There will be no hot water left for the rest of the town," he heard, and snapped out of his memory.

"You're awake," he half-asked, unsure of what to say in this position.

"I am. And I'm starving. I was thinking of sneaking down to the grill and bringing something back," said Aria, in a semi-questioning tone.

"I'm fine," he answered.

No response. She had left.

He turned off the water and stepped out. Once dry, he picked up his black clothing and inhaled. It smelled of battle, alcohol, gunpowder, perfume. His head involuntarily turned from the garment for fresher air. With extremely limited options, he wrapped his waist in a towel, and cautiously opened the bathroom door. Upon confirming Aria's absence, he grabbed the Harvest clothing that had been gifted by the innkeeper and dressed himself.

When Aria returned, Vincent had opened the glass door to the tiny patio and sat atop the wide brick half-wall, watching the villagers below. On the rail across from him hung his black clothes, drying.

"Wow. What kind of change of heart did I miss?" she asked, gesturing to his significantly brighter clothing.

He shook his head at her comment, but did not notice her looking him up and down.

Aria perched atop the half-wall across from him, his clothes in between them. She pulled apart a small loaf of dark bread and took a bite.

"Your family is not here?" he asked, wondering why she'd chosen him for her company.

"Ah, my family. No. I don't know where they are, but they aren't here. Not anymore."

"You said you stayed with Shinra for them. To help them," he reminded her.

She nodded thoughtfully. "I did. My partner tried to leave Shinra once she finally put together what they were doing to the planet. By the time she reached her home in Kalm, they'd all been murdered. Her parents, her brother, her niece. So, when I was promoted to an Officer, I visited my family one last time, and told them to leave town. I couldn't let them tell me where they would go for their own safety. I leave half of my earnings under the main stairs here in Cosmo, and they come retrieve it every month."

He said nothing.

She adjusted her weight on the banister and nearly slid off the outer edge. To save herself, she fell backward onto the wooden patio and landed on her back. Clearly not yet sobered from the evening's celebration, she laughed hysterically. Vincent could not help but grin as he lowered himself gracefully to the patio, and outstretched his hand to help her stand.

Aria took his hand in hers and tightened her grip. Before he realized her intent, she snaked her other hand around the back of his left knee and pulled hard enough to bring him down.

On his knees, and several feet closer to Aria, he saw the striking threat that she was. As she laughed, he noticed her sharp canines as they glinted in the moonlight. Her arms flexed strong muscles. Her strength was not delicate and hidden, as was Tifa and Yuffie's, but blatant. Her laugh was guttural, animalistic. He could only imagine how she looked in action, despite her most fearsome features being tamed and hidden behind that classic blue suit. Under the moonlight her paint still shone faintly. He could see both her natural features and the artificial ones she'd added to herself. She was beautiful, and terrifying.

"You're staring," she noted, pulling him back into the moment.

"Sorry," he said, starting to stand. She pulled him back toward the floor.

"It's okay. Just let me do it back." He shifted uncomfortably at the idea of anyone paying him too much attention. She noticed.

"Stop being so hard on yourself," she half-whispered. Her lavender eyes glowed against her fair skin, drawing him in to her. "You're an amazing creature, you know. Look at what you've been through. At what you've seen. And what you're about to..._willingly_ walk into. And you're still so...human."

He broke the mutual gaze to glance at his left arm. "That's not quite the word..."

"It's exactly the right word," she cut him off, placing a finger over his lips. "I've read a lot about you, and Reeve has often spoken of you. I admire you. And I envy you."

"Envy?"

She nodded from the floor. "Of course! Whatever is going to happen in that crater, _you_ get to be there, right up front, pulling the trigger. The rest of us get to hope and pray. You get to fight."

Vincent met her gaze once more, just in time to be pulled off balance by the collar of his thin shirt. He landed, just as she intended, on top of her, face to face.

"Exhale," she commanded. At this, she wound her fingers through his hair and pulled him into a kiss far deeper than for what he was prepared.

His senses caught fire. He inhaled sharply, breathing in her unique scent of citrus, bonfire smoke, and sweat. His ears caught an involuntary groan from deep in her throat that made him push deeper into the kiss. The hairs on the back of his neck raised as she dragged her nails against his scalp, gently pulling at his still-damp hair. Aria's sharp teeth caught his lower lip and he unsuccessfully held back a moan as she ran her tongue across it.

He resumed his breathing when she broke the kiss. Before he could process what had happened, she was assaulting him with kisses. Her lips trailed his left jawline, then cheekbone, then temple. With her mouth this close to his ear, he tuned in to her ragged breathing and felt a warmth in his stomach that could not compare to all of the night's drinks. Her arms circled his neck and held him down to her, though at this point, he was not pulling away.

Aria turned her head slightly and pressed her lips against the sensitive skin under his ear. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of the inn's shampoo in his hair. Her hands moved from his hair to his neck, then slid halfway down his back and onto his sides.

"You're freezing," she stated. "Are you always this cold?"

He sighed and dropped his head. "Yes, always."

At this, she maneuvered her body out from under his and stood in the doorway to the room. "You should get in bed. You have four hours until sunrise."

Vincent pulled himself from the ground and stood in the moonlight, facing her. "Are you leaving?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," he answered before he could stop to think.

"Get in bed. I need to wash this paint off."

Vincent slid under the covers with a knot of anticipation in his stomach. Aria's actions had led in a specific direction, then derailed on a whim. He wondered if his cold skin had averted her. It seemed unlikely, based on her admission of admiration. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to imagining the tattoos on Aria's body.

These thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the bathroom door. The room was lit solely by a small, dim table lamp on the nightstand. When she stepped out into that yellow light, Vincent opened his eyes and stopped breathing at the sight.

Aria had removed her thin clothing. Instead, she wore a white fabric band across her chest and sleek white boyshorts. Her hair was loosely braided, several loose strands framing her face. Her face was clean of all makeup, yet her purple eyes still blazed against her dark lashes.

Vincent propped himself up on his left arm and absorbed as much of her as he could. A series of unreadable lines spiraled around her right thigh in what appeared to be Ancient symbols. Her legs were just as toned as her arms. She had an easily recognizable knife scar on her right side, a scar from a bullet on her right shoulder. The tattoo that scaled her back was a phoenix, its tail feathers dipping down onto her left thigh, the tips of its wings stretching up to the base of her neck.

"You're decorated," he noted.

She grinned and laughed quietly. "I am," she started, sitting on the edge of the bed. She turned her left arm to display the tribal lines on the back. "These were given to me by a shaman in Wutai. He told me they would ensure I made it to 'the other side' safely when it was my time. I outran the Midgar Zolom twice, which earned me my wings," she explained, pointing to her ankles. "This is an Ancient prayer, connecting me to the planet. I spent a month in the Forgotten City when I was twenty five. If for any reason I couldn't be in Cosmo, I would be there. I learned so much from that place..." she trailed off, her mind clearly flooded with memories.

"You've been shot?" he asked, nodding at her scars.

"Gaia, have I," she replied, laughing. "Once in the shoulder, which went through. I was grazed in the side, in the leg, on the arm. I have a bullet still inside my chest, somewhere. A rookie used too many Cures on me, healing the wound closed before we made it back to the hospital for surgery. I was stabbed in the slums, but, _I just won't die._ Hence," she turned, showing off her large phoenix.

After a moment of reflection, she caught his gaze again. "So, you've seen me," she said, with obvious implication. "Think you can even compare?"

He flexed his metal fingers subtly.

"Come on. Who are you hiding from?" she asked, sensing his discomfort. She climbed across the bed. He allowed her to push him back into a lying position and straddle his hips.

"My marks are not nearly as beautiful as yours," he warned her, surprising himself with his choice of adjective.

"I'll be the judge of that," she said, catching his shirt with her thumbs and sliding her hands and the shirt up his sides. He shivered at the touch of her warm skin. He raised his chest slightly to allow her to remove the shirt completely.

Everything was vivid against his white skin. Silently, she took the sight of him in.

A clear gunshot scar was most prominent on the left side of his chest. Sloppy surgical incision scars ran from his navel to the base of his neck, with four thin branches on each side, reaching six inches in both directions. Only now did she notice the slight discoloration of the skin above his metal arm, where it had been attached. A thick, gnarled scar ran the length of his shoulder and bicep, ending at metal.  
>As she traced the lines, she sensed him silently panicking. His breathing had deepened, and he refused to make eye contact.<br>"No one has seen this?" she asked.  
>"No one still living," he replied quietly.<br>At this she stretched across the bed and turned the lamp off, returning to her position on top of him in the dark. She repositioned herself farther down his legs and lowered her body onto his, her warm chest resting on his cool stomach, her head on his chest. He sighed heavily as she wrapped her arms around his back and held him tightly. For the first time in the weeks since he had joined Cloud's crusade, Vincent peacefully drifted into sleep.


	5. Peace Disrupted

Five hours later, he awoke to a knocking on the door. His requested taxi had arrived, according to the innkeeper in the hallway. Vincent sat up and scanned the room. Aria was gone. He was not surprised.

Once dressed in his own clothing, he walked toward the door, noticing a small piece of paper on the dresser. On it was a red flower from the festivities and written was their shared toast from the night before, "To Survival."

He folded the paper neatly and placed it in his pocket just before walking out of the room.

He did survive. Sephiroth was defeated, the planet survived Meteor. With no mission to keep them together, the eight heroes went separate ways. Cloud and Tifa returned to Nibelheim for a time. Cid returned to his home in Rocket Town. Nanaki returned to Cosmo, Yuffie to Wutai. Barret went to Corel with Marlene for a while. Cait Sith returned to Reeve, in Kalm. Midgar was destroyed, yet construction on an addition to the city for the displaced residents had already begun.  
>Not wanting to keep the others from their new lives, Vincent refused to go with any of them, though they all offered temporary homes for him while he "figured things out." Instead, he searched for his own peace in the Forgotten City.<br>He settled into a small, abandoned home close to the building that housed Aeris's altar. During the day, he roamed the abandoned village, reading books that had been left by previous inhabitants. At night, he sat near the altar and listened to the voices of the Ancients.  
>So passed two weeks, then three. A month, then two. His peace was only interrupted by his need for supplies, which took him to Bone Village for an hour at most, every week. For several weeks he disappeared from the rest of the planet.<br>He often dreamed of Lucrecia, a wound that still felt raw. She appeared in great clarity in his dreams for the first two weeks. Then a shift occurred. Her face would appear, ethereal as ever. Her eyes were always closed. One night, though, she looked right at him, with violet eyes. He woke violently at this. Her auburn brown hair darkened, and eventually came loose of her usual ponytail. Her thin arms became visibly stronger. When she spoke to him, as she often did, her voice lowered. Her laugh was no longer delicate and airy, but throaty and contagious. He felt himself smiling in his dreams when she laughed, a feeling that was foreign yet welcome.

One particularly vivid night's dream began with Lucrecia standing over him. He knew this scene well. He'd been shot in the basement of Shinra Manor. Hojo was laughing, Lucrecia crying. His vision clouded and cleared, as it always did when reliving this nightmare. Just as he knew he was about to black out, Lucrecia transformed. The change was not subtle and slow as it had been previously. Instead, when his vision cleared again, Aria clearly stood over him, calmly looking at Hojo. She wore her Turk uniform: blue suit, sunglasses, black fingerless gloves, black boots. Her hair was not braided, and instead, fell wildly down her shoulders and back. In one fluid movement she withdrew two long bladed knives from her jacket and knelt at Vincent's side.  
>"Exhale," she said to him with a grin, just before leaping across the room and taking Hojo down with two powerful slashes from each arm.<br>He watched from the floor as she stood up, removed her glasses and turned to face him again. Half of her face was covered in Hojo's blood, her blades dripping in her fists. Her eyes glowed.

Vincent awoke with a start that night and wondered if he would ever sleep without her image in his mind again.  
>Despite his hopes, Aria never appeared in the Forgotten City. She was not the reason he had come, he supposed, yet her appearance would not be unwelcome. By month three, he was thinking about her on a daily basis, wondering if she survived her escape from Shinra.<br>Winter came to the abandoned village, and with it, the feeling that he should move on. He packed his few belongings; an identical change of clothes, a journal from an abandoned house that had belonged to a poet, his weapons and materia; and went to the altar to bid Aeris farewell.  
>When he exited the altar's building he was met with two familiar faces.<p>

"So this is where you've been hiding," said Reno. "You know, we've been all over looking for you. Wutai, Rocket Town, Kalm. None of your pals knew where you went. What gives?" the young man asked, adjusting his goggles on his head. Meanwhile, Rude stood by silently.  
>"I did not wish to bother them. What's this about?" Vincent asked, palming his pistol cautiously.<br>"No need for that thing, 'yo. We're just here to talk. We have a proposition for you."  
>Vincent started walking toward the exit of the village. "I'm not interested."<br>Rude stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Reno stepped over to face him again. "I think you might be. Besides, it doesn't look like you're too busy these days."  
>"What is it?" Vincent asked, hoping to end the conversation soon.<br>"A good, old-fashioned manhunt," Reno said with a grin.  
>Vincent's stomach dropped. "Who?"<br>"A threat to Shinra Inc. The target has been disrupting Shinra's attempt to rebuild, destroying new construction attempts, sabotaging intelligence transfers from Midgar to the makeshift offices in Junon. Killing Shinra employees as they sort through the ruins of the old building."  
>This was not the information he anticipated. His jaw slightly relaxed. "And you can't take care of this yourselves?"<br>Reno sighed in aggravation. "We've tried. We're stretched pretty thin right now, Valentine. Shinra is changing directions, and we're spread all-"  
>"Under whose command?" Vincent interrupted.<br>Reno stiffened. "Tseng."  
>"No. Who?"<br>"Are you helping us or not?" Reno spat, not amused with Vincent's prying.  
>"Reno, you knew he'd ask," Rude said calmly.<br>Reno looked Vincent up and down once. "Where were you going?" he asked. He was answered with silence. "Alright, come on," he spat in frustration, and turned toward the helicopter waiting at the edge of the Forgotten City.


	6. Still In

An hour later they landed amongst the rubble of Midgar. On the Northern border a small collection of buildings had been constructed. Some were apartments for displaced residents, some were makeshift offices. There was a new hospital at the center, as though it had been the first to be built. That was their destination.  
>Reno shivered as they entered the tall building. "God, I hate this place."<br>The smell of disinfectant was strong as they passed through a long hallway to an elevator. Reno inserted a keycard into a slot near the console and directed the elevator to the top floor.  
>When the doors opened Vincent had to turn his head from the light. The entire room was white and silver with floor to ceiling windows.<br>Reno and Rude led Vincent around a corner and stopped at a floor-length white curtain. Reno nodded to Rude, who slipped through the curtain quietly.  
>"Sir, he's here," Vincent heard Rude say. He found this situation impossible to believe, knowing what the Diamond Weapon had done in Midgar.<br>A soft, smooth voice replied, "Send him in."  
>Reno pulled the white curtain aside and Vincent stepped through. On a white hospital bed lay Rufus Shinra, gauze wrapped around his forehead, covering both of his eyes. His right arm rested in a splint at his side. Gauze bandages covered his left arm from wrist to elbow, where an IV had been started, and connected to three bags of various medications. He appeared to only recently come from death's door.<br>"Nice to meet you, Vincent Valentine," he greeted.  
>"Shinra," Vincent replied. "You're...alive."<br>Rufus chuckled, then coughed. "Despite your young friend and this planet's attempts, I just won't die."  
>Vincent's ears burned at the words. "What do you want me for?"<br>"We're rebuilding. Shinra Inc. owes the people of Midgar a great deal. We've caused much damage to this planet and to our citizens. We're trying to construct a new city, and a new company, and someone is getting in our way. I have my suspicions as to who it-"  
>"Who?" Vincent interrupted for the second time that day.<br>"No one you would know, and I have no proof, so there is no need to concern yourself with my notions."  
>"How do you expect me to find this person with nothing to go on?"<br>Rufus slowly sat up, adjusting his bed to support him. "The target will be the one who is killing my employees," he snarled.  
>"Why can't your Turks take care of this?"<br>"You are one of my Turks."  
>Vincent grunted a laugh and shook his head, turning away. "You're insane."<br>"You were never discharged from the organization. Thirty years ago you simply disappeared, M.I.A. Well, you're back, and you're still in, as far as I'm concerned. If you refuse, I think we both know the consequences."  
>Reno visibly shifted in discomfort. His disapproval of Rufus's approach was obvious.<br>Vincent stopped in his tracks and turned to face Rufus. "What do you think you can possibly hold over me?"  
>"Then you haven't befriended that ragtag gang of deviants? Good. You won't miss them as I pick them off one by one."<br>"Those deviants saved your life," Vincent reminded him, taking a menacing step toward his bed. Reno and Rude stepped toward the bed in unison, eyes on Vincent.  
>"I should kill you right here," Vincent growled.<br>"Maybe, but we both know you won't. Why not just do this for me? You catch this scum that's killing my men and holding up my progress, I let you and your friends live in peace. What do you have to lose?" Rufus asked coyly.  
>Vincent shifted his weight. "Fine."<p>

Before the sun had risen the next morning, Vincent was prowling the streets of upper Midgar, heading toward the former Shinra headquarters. The route he had chosen led him directly past Grey Haus, where he stopped and took in the damage Meteor had caused. The back half of the restaurant was completely leveled, yet the front entrance stood as solidly as it had months before. There were still coats hanging on the silver hooks by the front door.  
>"So, Vincent Valentine, what's the plan? For the night, I mean."<p>

He shook his head to clear the memory away and continued on his path to the headquarters.

Once at the front steps to the destroyed building Vincent saw the dozens of Shinra employees gathering files and technology from the maze of ruins. Most looked stiff and frightened.

He entered the building and began familiarizing himself with the entrances and exits on the main level. There were three functional exits, two of which he could easily keep an eye on from a position on the second floor mezzanine-style lobby, leaving his back exposed to the third.

He tucked himself and his rifle into a corner of the lobby behind a cabinet and watched the progress on the main floor for hours. The entire company stayed inside the building for lunch, locking the doors behind them, leaving two former SOLDIERS patrolling the perimeter of the building. The hour ended and a small woman opened the doors and stepped out to transport a box of files to a waiting truck. Moments after exiting the building she let out a blood-curdling scream.

Vincent flew down the steps and out the door, his pistol drawn. The woman was standing in front of the building, staring back at it in horror. From the third floor balcony hung the bodies of the two guards by slashed necks. Massive pools of blood had gathered on the concrete steps, running down to the street. Two words were scrawled in blood across the white front wall of the building: "SHINRA KILLS."

"Why are they doing this?" the woman sobbed as a coworker pulled her away toward a car.

Vincent ran back inside and climbed the stairs to the third floor. It was completely abandoned, dust and broken concrete everywhere. He quietly made his way toward the balcony, scanning the room for evidence of the intruder. Nothing.

The bodies of the guards were removed and the day ended. Vincent stayed at the complex even after the employees had left the grounds. He examined the outer perimeter of the building and found too many hiding spots to keep track of. There was no way of knowing if this murderer was inside or outside of the building, what he had for armor and weapons. This mission felt hopeless, and Vincent began to understand why Rufus refused to waste his own men on the project.

Around 2:00 the following morning, Vincent was sitting in his roost on the second floor when he heard soft footsteps. They were not coming from his own floor, but the floor above him.

He silently climbed the emergency stairs in the back corner of the building and emerged into total darkness on the third floor. The light of the moon and three street lights illuminated the front half of the floor. He remained in the shadows, his eyes immediately adjusted to the darkness.

He heard the sound of fabric sliding across fabric, then the familiar sound of a metal zipper being drawn closed. The person he figured for his target stepped out into the dim light at the front of the floor. The silhouette wore a motorcycle helmet and a light backpack. Vincent moved as silently as possible to aim his pistol. Not silently enough.

The silhouette's head turned sharply, then the body turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. It raised a small gun of its own and shot out a panel of glass. Vincent fired and the silhouette jerked to the left, slamming into a desk. At this, Vincent began running toward the figure. It regained balance and ran toward the now exposed balcony from which two men had hung the day before. It leaped up to the railing, then bounded over the edge in a controlled fall. By the time Vincent reached the edge, a motorcycle was already speeding out of the city.

As he passed through the white curtain, Vincent caught Reno quickly let go of Rufus's hand and jump up from the bed. Reno watched the floor as Vincent spoke.

"Your intruder is trained," Vincent explained. "He took a bullet to the shoulder and barely flinched."

Rufus shook his head. "Why wasn't it a bullet to the skull, Valentine?"

"That can be arranged," he growled, holding the end of his pistol against the side of Rufus's head before Reno could stop him. He was rewarded with an electrical shock that brought him down to one knee. As he regained his posture he shook his head at Reno in warning.

"Sorry, 'yo. Rules is rules. No physical threats to the boss. You can say whatever you want, but..." Reno trailed off.

"Try me," Rufus replied, daring Reno to say a word against him.

"You're rather full of threats for a blind man," Vincent snarled.

Ignoring this comment, Rufus moved the conversation forward. "I assume you'll be staying in the area, watching over the construction of our new building. That's the second hottest spot for our visitor, and likely where he'll be now, since you scared him out of Midgar. There is an apartment waiting for you just down the street from the site. I expect you'll only be there long enough to regain some strength, and get back to the hunt."

Vincent offered no gratitude as he took a key from Reno, who still wore an uneasy expression when not the center of attention.

The apartment had a single bedroom with a king sized bed, covered with white linens. He placed his belongings on the bed and, moments later, was showering. His thoughts centered around his current, seemingly impossible objective. The area was too expansive for just one...

_"There will be no hot water left for the rest of the town."_

He snapped his head up at the sound of the voice and rested his weight against the cold tile wall of the shower. A dull ache rose in his chest as he suppressed the memory. He shook away the images, finished showering, and slept lightly that night.

Vincent rose early the following morning, as he did the five mornings that followed, and silently, cautiously patrolled outermost perimeter of the construction of the new Shinra building. All was quiet. No news came in from Midgar. The attacks had stopped.

On the sixth day, he found out why.


	7. Retribution

The sun was high as he observed the site from the top of an apartment building. He watched workers agree to a destination for lunch through the scope of his rifle. A bell rang loudly and a group of twenty carpenters divided into six white Shinra company trucks. Vincent began dismantling his sniper stand, preparing for a walk through the grounds. The trucks' engines turned, but none started. The drivers continued trying the engines, wanting to make the most of their free hour. Vincent felt a chill slide down his spine followed by a sharp pang of panic. Too late.

The six white trucks exploded simultaneously, killing the twenty workers right in front of him.

In a flash he was down amongst the trucks checking for survivors. The bodies were unrecognizable as the trucks burned away. He began running, dashing to and from the dozens of hiding spots he'd discovered in the area. Moments later, he heard the screaming begin, followed quickly by sirens. He was momentarily stunned, his mind overloaded with an array of reactions. There was no time for him to move before a speeding motorcycle approached him from behind. The driver extended a leg and kicked Vincent to the ground before speeding out of the site.

As he looked up from the ground he saw a glint of green, and a familiar ache rose in his chest.

As the hospital elevator escalated, Vincent weighed the consequences of telling Rufus to leave the city against letting him be attacked. When the doors chimed open, he was still unsure of the words that would come out of his mouth.  
>"Twenty men?" Rufus shouted across the room, before Vincent had even passed through the curtains. "What the hell are you doing out there, Valentine?"<br>"The attacks have come closer to the hospital. You should leave town. Costa del Sol, Niebelheim."  
>"No, I should stay, and you should catch this asshole," Rufus responded dryly.<br>"I can't. Not alone," Vincent cursed himself as he uttered the words.  
>"Fine. You've got Reno and Rude for two days. Reno, call Tseng, tell him he's with me for that time. Get this done."<br>"Still dead or alive, Sir?" Rude asked.  
>Rufus thought before answering, "No. Alive. We'll hold a public execution to make the citizens feel safer."<br>"Sir," Reno and Rufus replied, and began to exit the room.

As he entered the elevator, Vincent's mind was racing. He was relieved that the order to kill had been lifted, yet concerned that he would not be the one to catch the rebel.

Vincent had been right. The next attack was aimed at Rufus.

At sunset the following day, the three men were waiting, at Vincent's command, in sniping points circling the hospital. Vincent had not told them about the motorcycle, so they were not immediately suspicious as it sped past the front entrance. But upon witnessing its arrival, Vincent was instantly down on the ground. He entered the main level of the hospital and worked his way back to the only emergency exit not in view of Reno or Rude. He'd chosen the wrong door.

He heard Reno talking through the earpiece Rufus had forced upon him.

"Alright, I have someone picking a lock out here in a motorcycle helmet. This must be our guy. East main level entrance, goes right into a stairwell."

At this, Vincent took off toward the opposite side of the hospital. Before he was halfway across he heard, "He's in. Rude's already on his way in the front, I'll come in behind the intruder."

Vincent picked up his pace and sped through the lobby to the east stairwell. He entered the narrow stairwell and immediately began climbing. Footsteps were running three floors ahead of him already. Then a door opened, and the intruder disappeared into the fifth floor.

As Vincent entered the fifth floor, Reno stormed in at the bottom, already too far behind. Vincent scanned the level for a trail and saw nothing. A nurse approached him cautiously, pointing toward the west stairwell with a fear in her eyes. He was off.

Upon entering the stairwell he heard footsteps too high for him to catch. But he knew approaching the top floor was impossible without a key.

Vincent stepped out of the elevator at the nineteenth floor, with only one floor above him. The floor was completely bare: no patients, no doctors, no equipment. It was silent.

He ran to the western stairwell and waited in the hall, behind the door.

It opened quietly, and a helmeted body stepped through. Vincent allowed five steps before knocking the intruder to the ground and pinning strong arms behind a slender back, the intruder's thin leather jacket creaking in protest. The ache in his chest arose again, and he pulled off the helmet.

"Aria. What are you doing?" he asked, dismayed by the discovery he'd known was coming.

She kept her eyes closed, writhing underneath his weight. "I knew they'd try to send you. I never thought you'd agree to it, you monster."  
>"You're killing people, Aria. Why didn't you just leave?"<br>She scoffed at his question. "I did. They came after me."  
>"Can I let you up?" he asked, wanting to trust her. She nodded, and he rose, allowing her to stand. After brushing herself off and straightening her jacket, she finally looked at him. He stepped back.<br>"What happened to you?" he asked.  
>She raised her eyebrows and nodded. "An attempt at Mako poisoning," she explained. Her eyes were bright green. "You've missed some real excitement around here, Vincent. And," she looked over her shoulder, "don't you have some friends with you?"<br>"Not friends. You can't kill Shinra, Aria. You can't kill twenty innocent men and expect to get away with it."  
>"Innocent? They know who they're working for. They know what they're helping him rebuild."<br>"Maybe you don't," he suggested. He was answered with a slap across the face.  
>"What the hell happened to you?" she asked, her voice deep with fury.<br>"We need to get out of here," he said flatly. "Once Reno and Rude have you, I can't protect you."  
>Aria glared at him and shook her head in frustration before walking toward the elevator. Vincent followed closely behind.<br>Just before the doors opened on the main level, Aria took out her sunglasses from her jacket and put them on. From the hospital the pair inconspicuously walked across the street to her motorcycle.

"Reno, the target left the hospital. I'm in pursuit. You two go back to Shinra," he spoke into a small microphone attached to his earpiece.

"I hope so, 'yo. Rufus will have your head if he gets away again," was his response.

Vincent let Aria drive to ensure she did not slip away, and directed her to his makeshift apartment.

The front door latched and locked quietly. Aria stood, arms crossed, in the middle of the small living room. "So? What now?" she asked.  
>"Rufus threatened to go after the others. If I were to catch this...hindrance to his reconstruction efforts, we would all be left in peace. I thought you wanted to disappear from Midgar and Shinra, too."<br>"I did disappear. I was out of Cosmo before you even woke up that day. After Meteorfall, Rufus decided to start a new, eco-friendly, positive-influence-on-society Shinra Inc. And I was out there, with who-knows-what information that could destroy this shiny new persona he's adopted. And, I believe there was an element of revenge at play. So he sent the dogs after me. In the process, they found them." She removed an envelope from her jacket and handed it to Vincent.  
>Inside were photographs of an older couple lying dead in a kitchen, both shot through the temple. Another showed a young woman shot through the chest lying on a bed. Yet another was of dark haired teenage boy, shot through the chest. He replaced the photographs into the envelope.<br>"My parents. My younger brother and sister. They were living in Nibelheim."  
>"I'm sorry," he offered. She shook her head dismissively.<br>"They were buried at the base of Mount Nibel. I went to visit their graves and was ambushed. They shot me, drugged me, and when I woke up, I was in a lab, strapped to a table, bleeding out." She took off her jacket. Along the outside of her forearms ran long, fresh scars. "I bled until I lost consciousness again, then woke up in a Mako tank, where I stayed for two weeks, I think, surviving on whatever nutrients were provided through an IV. They wanted to break me," she said, raising an eyebrow, "use me as a guinea pig. Instead of healing my shattered shoulder blade where they shot me, I was gifted a mechanical replacement prototype: technology Shinra was developing for SOLDIER, yet hadn't been able to test on a viable subject. And I believe you lodged a bullet into it."

"That's why you didn't go down in Midgar," he mused, allowing her to continue.

"Shinra didn't want to destroy my body, though. They were really going after my mind, trying to poison me into oblivion."

Vincent watched the floor while she spoke. Hers was a disturbingly familiar story.  
>"And I did lose it for a while. I thought I was in Cosmo, then the Forgotten City. I kept seeing my brother and sister. I had to put every single memory I had back in order. I worked through my entire life. Through life in Midgar, joining the Turks. Every job I could remember. Reports of AVALANCHE. The Harvest. You."<br>His eyes involuntarily met her gaze.  
>"I put everything back together, and eventually, when they thought I was broken down enough to transport me out, I grabbed what I could of my belongings and made a run for it. And I was still damn fast," she said, with a sad smile playing on her lips.<br>"So this is revenge?" he asked.  
>The smile faded. "Retribution, yes. What choice do I have? He hunted me down."<br>"These people didn't, though. The people you've killed had nothing to do with Rufus. They're building a new city for the displaced citizens of Midgar. They were helping put things right," he explained.  
>"What did my family do? Why did my sixteen year-old brother deserve to die?"<br>"This isn't right, Aria. If you play this game, you're no better than Shinra."  
>"Of course I'm not! This is what I was trained to do! How could I be better? I was MADE by them!" she shouted, her internal conflict rising to the surface. "They're the closest thing to family I have now. How fucked is that?" she asked, exasperated, falling onto the small couch.<br>He sat in a white chair across from the couch. They shared several minutes of silence while a sense of insecurity grew in Aria.  
>"What happens now? Clearly, you disapprove of my methods. Are you handing me over?" she asked.<br>He sighed and rubbed his forehead in thought. "No. You'd make even more of a mess if I did."  
>She grinned mischievously. "Undoubtedly."<br>"Rufus knew it was you. He alluded to it when he brought me into this. But he has no reason to believe I would protect you..."

"Take my things to him. Tell him you killed me," she suggested.

"Those weren't my orders."

She sat up straight in disbelief. "He wants me alive?"

"Public execution."

"To make the town feel safer. Yeah, I know the idea, I came up with it."

Vincent tensed and looked down, remembering Tifa's close call months before.

"You can't keep fighting them," Vincent warned. "You're strong and fast, but you're only one person. They got to you before, they can do it again."

"What do you suggest I do?"

"I don't know yet, but you have to get out of this area. We probably have about twelve hours before they come looking for you. It's dark, this is the best time to go."

"Where?" she asked.

"I know of a safe place."


	8. Alarming Behavior

Two hours later the pair walked through the narrow entrance of the Nibel Cave. A dull ache began in Vincent's chest upon seeing the glowing crystal at the back of the small cave. It intensified as Aria walked directly up to it.

Despite her recent mood, she appeared humbled by the sight. She stared at Lucrecia for a long moment, while Vincent watched her. As if her violent impulses had all slipped away, she turned back to Vincent, her face notably softer. His breath caught. She looked as she had the night of the Cosmo Harvest.

Vincent gathered his thoughts quickly. "I'll speak with Rufus. Stay here. Try to rest."

Aria nodded and turned back to face Lucrecia. As he turned away he saw her shiver from the corner of his eye.

Vincent approached her from behind, unbuckling his heavy cloak. He pulled it off and almost wrapped it around her shoulders. Instead, he handed it to her.

"Thank you," she said quietly, wrapping it around her shoulders. It dragged the ground. She picked up the extra length and wrapped it tightly around her arms. "Does it look as good on me?" she asked jokingly.

He sighed. "Of course. I'll bring you something to eat when I return."

Before he could turn to leave, Aria wrapped her arms tightly around him. He returned the hug tentatively, despite the intense ache it caused.

Muffled slightly by his chest, she said softly, "She's beautiful."

The pain became unbearable. "She is," he replied, and pulled away. "I'll return as soon as possible."

Aria nodded, and moments later, the cave filled with the sound of her motorcycle driving away.

It was midnight before Vincent had returned to the hospital. He was escorted on the elevator by two unfamiliar Shinra employees who stayed in the elevator after he stepped out.  
>He slipped through the white curtain and stopped short. Rufus sat on the edge of his bed with his right eye exposed.<br>"I expect you have some news for me to be coming here in the middle of the night," the younger man said.  
>"No shit, man," Reno said, half-asleep in a chair in the corner of the room. Rude was absent at this hour.<br>Vincent nonchalantly took a step toward Reno's chair before speaking. "This is over."  
>"Good. Where is she?" Rufus replied.<br>"She's safe, so are you. She won't be near this area again."  
>Rufus sighed. "You're not handing her over, are you? She's in your head, manipulating you. I expected more from you, Valentine. Well, I'll just get everyone else back on her trail. The intel transfers will have to stop so the whole team-" Rufus said, more to Reno than Vincent.<br>"No. She'll leave you alone, you'll leave her."  
>"Mr. Valentine, have you forgotten our deal? You bring her in, or your friends become top priority. You're playing with fire, here."<br>"What are you willing to give up to get her?" Vincent asked threateningly. Reno sat up and watched Rufus closely at this turn in the conversation.  
>Rufus, on the other hand, scoffed. "Please, don't try that. There's nothing you can..."<br>In a single fluid motion, Vincent grabbed Reno from his chair and locked his metal arm around his neck; the silenced muzzle of his pistol pressed sharply to his temple.  
>"Holy shit!" Reno cried, helplessly clawing at Vincent's arm.<br>Rufus noticeably tensed. His breathing quickened. He shrugged, as if to say, '_Is that all you've got?'_ It wasn't.  
>Vincent lowered his gun. Reno sighed. "Oh thank god." Rufus did not move.<br>Vincent shot a bullet through the top of Reno's right foot. Reno cried out in agony and fear, as Rufus flinched, but did not change his position.  
>"You're going to leave her alone," Vincent growled through clenched teeth.<br>Rufus laughed. "You don't have the nerve," he said dismissively.  
>"Boss, please. She's not worth it," Reno pleaded.<br>Vincent adjusted his grip on Reno, sliding his claw under the smaller man's left arm, across his chest, and gripping his right shoulder. Rufus said nothing, but swallowed hard as he realized why Vincent had altered his grip.

Another silenced shot went through Reno's left foot. He howled and went limp in Vincent's arm, unable to stand.

"Your organization trained me to have the nerve," Vincent reminded Rufus.

"Rufus, _please_," Reno cried, his tone drastically more desperate.

Vincent saw Rufus's breath catch at Reno's cry.

"Your friends are safe, and will remain so," Rufus said quickly.

"Your reconstruction is safe, and will remain so," Vincent replied. He did not let Reno go. His negotiation was not over.

"I can't let Marx go, she's too dangerous," Rufus said over an obvious lump in his throat.

Vincent shook his head slightly. "Can you let him go?" he asked, lightly tapping his gun barrel against Reno's head.

Nobody spoke for several tense moments. Vincent's eyes glowed red. Reno moaned in pain.

"Vincent," Rufus began to plead, "Marx is not stable."

"I'm finished talking," Vincent warned, jerking Reno upright again. Rufus glared at the pair in disbelief. He remained silent.

Vincent sighed in frustration and dropped Reno to the floor. Rufus, supporting himself with a rail on the bedside, stood weakly and took a single step toward Reno.

"He'll be dead within five minutes if he's left here," Vincent explained.

"No, he won't," Rufus said, smirking, believing himself to be calling a bluff.

"Yes," Vincent responded, then pulled the trigger one last time. The shot went into Reno's side. "He will." Reno lost consciousness immediately.

"GODS, yes, Marx can go! Please, take him down!" Rufus cried in panic.

Vincent lifted Reno over his shoulder and carried him to the elevator. Rufus was left trembling on the bed, his head in his hands.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Vincent set Reno on the floor and cast a mastered Cure on him. Before the younger man regained consciousness, Vincent dug the thin tips of his clawed fingers into his feet and pulled the metal out. Reno's eyes opened and he violently jerked away from Vincent and into the opposite corner.

"Get the fuck away from me!" he cried.

"I'm sorry it came to that. Your..._boss_ is quite stubborn. You're alright, though."

Reno patted himself down. "You tried to kill me."

Vincent shook his head. "If everything is where it should be, that shot went outside of your ascending colon. Any tears have healed themselves by now. It went straight through."

Reno was quiet a moment. "Would you have let me die?"

The doors opened on the main level and Vincent stepped out. "For some reason...No."

The crystal was cool against her hand. As Aria ran her fingertips across the shards protruding from the base, she felt an immense sorrow overcome her senses. Shinra has ruined so many lives, she thought, and pulled Vincent's cloak around herself tighter.  
>Despite recently waking from a dreamless sleep, her legs were tired, and she sat against a side wall of the cave. She dipped her head down into the burgundy fabric and inhaled the scent of her captor and savior. Her mind wandered back to the Harvest. She recalled touching his face, painting on him the face of Death. Guilt rushed over her as she considered the irony of her recent actions. She shook it off and closed her eyes. Once more she was touching him, grabbing handfuls of his hair, kissing him on the balcony. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, reminding Aria of her humanity. She fell so deep into her memory that she did not hear her own motorcycle approaching outside.<br>"Aria?"  
>Her head snapped up. At the sight of Vincent, she felt her cheeks burn with private embarrassment. "Hey," she greeted sleepily. "How'd it go?"<br>"Well," he began, handing her a small loaf of bread, "I don't believe you're a good influence on me."  
>She raised her eyebrows in curiosity. "Really? What happened?"<br>"It was more...violent than I'd hoped for," he said, wanting to respect Reno's privacy more than Rufus's reputation. "But you're free to go. For now, at least. Stay away from the entire Midgar area."  
>"Holy..." she trailed off in awe. "Thank you."<br>He nodded, and they went silent in reflection. She picked gingerly at the bread.  
>"It's not much, but I know a good cook nearby. We can go there for breakfast," he explained.<br>"That sounds nice."  
>He handed her a small bottle of water from his pocket, then sat down to her left and leaned against the cave wall.<br>"Why are you helping me?" she asked halfheartedly.  
>So began a long moment of silence, during which Vincent stared at his former love and let his mind wander to find an answer somewhere in her unmoving face. He recalled his dreams in the Forgotten City, and began mentally holding the two against one another. The scientist was fragile, physically and emotionally. Lucrecia had been cautious and tepid, calculated, reasonable. Her appearance matched: carefully styled hair that smoothly swept across her left cheek, inconsequential jewelry, a strong aversion to tattoos, flawless skin. She was nothing if not safe. Yet, ultimately, she had been helpless. His vision blurred as he switched focus. The woman next to him was clearly strong, as he had noticed more than once. She had independently survived Mako poisoning, and now permanently carried a metal plate across her back. Aria was obviously capable of mental clarity and precision- all Turks were- yet, she was innately wild and carnal, as he had witnessed during the Harvest. She proudly displayed her scars and tattoos like badges of honor. She was emotionally charged, and dangerously reactive. She was everything he had worked to suppress in himself.<br>"I don't know," he finally replied in a defeated tone.  
>His response elicited a quiet laugh. Aria took a final bite of bread and a long drink of water before unwrapping the cape from around her shoulders. She wordlessly offered it back to him. He declined just as quietly. As soon as he did, she slid closer to him and laid her head on his thigh, spreading the cape out as a blanket that managed to cover her upper body and most of his legs. Within moments she was asleep.<br>As she slept, he removed the ever-present leather glove on his right hand and ran his fingers through her dark hair. In the faint light of the cave he noticed fine red streaks running through the underside of her hair. The sight made him sigh, as he knew the artificial coloring was a result from her time in a Mako tank.  
>After minutes of enjoying the wild silk of Aria's hair, Vincent's eyes drifted back up to the crystal. He froze in anticipation, then relaxed against the cave wall and closed his eyes. There was no pain in his chest.<p>

The sun crept timidly into the cave a few hours later. When Vincent opened his eyes, he was alone, again. This realization made him jump to his feet quickly, but his muscles relaxed when he saw Aria's jacket lying in the sun next to her boots. He stepped over them and out into the light of day.  
>Aria was lying on her back on the grassy bank, her black pants rolled up to her knees, the lower halves of her legs soaking in the crystal clear lake.<p>

"The elders used to say this lake had healing powers," she remarked upon seeing him. He nodded, having once heard the same tale. "I have my doubts," she admitted, pulling her left leg from the water to show off a small gash in her shin. "Should I be drinking it?"

He shook his head in good humor and knelt beside her to inspect the wound. "What happened?" he asked, expecting this to be the result of some adventurous endeavor.  
>"I caught a shard of glass at the old Shinra building. It's not getting any smaller. There's probably still some in there," she said. "My exit wasn't as graceful as it could have been."<br>He stood. "That cook happens to be an excellent healer. I'm sure you can get fixed up there," he suggested, offering his hand. She grabbed it and pulled herself up. They looked, half-expectantly, at each other for a moment. He could not look away from the unearthly glow the sun caused in her artificially green eyes. Then she simply turned and walked back into the cave, leaving him briefly confounded.  
>Aria returned quickly, fully dressed, jacket zipped, and sunglasses back over her eyes. She handed him the red cloak, which he quickly buckled into place. They looked dangerous together. She grinned at their mutual appreciation for black, then felt her hunger rear its head.<p>

"Let's go."

* * *

><p>Author's Note: If you've come this far, then first of all, thank you. Secondly, I apologize for the format of this story. I have yet to find a way to prevent the site from completely destroying my format when I upload my chapters, but thank you for your continued patience. Finally, for those few who leave notes of encouragement, they've not gone unheard, and are greatly appreciated.<p> 


	9. A Perfect Hostess

Not long after, they were parking in front of a two-story building in Nibelheim. The rustic front door swung open and a young girl stepped out. She looked closely at the pair and ran back inside.  
>"Marlene. She doesn't remember me. I only saw her once," he explained.<p>

Just then, Tifa stepped outside. Her jaw dropped for a moment at the sight. "Vincent? What are...Where..." she trailed off, approaching him speechlessly. He met her halfway up the stone path. Aria watched from a few steps back as Tifa considered a hug over a handshake. Vincent outstretched his arms just slightly, and at this minor signal, Tifa passionately embraced him.  
>"Are you okay? Where have you been? We've all talked about you so much. We were worried," she rambled into his shoulder.<br>"I'm fine, Tifa. I needed some time. But I'm fine. This," he pulled back and motioned toward Aria, "is..." he paused, unsure of which name she would prefer. Immediately, she trusted Tifa and stepped forward, extending her hand.  
>"Aria," she introduced herself with a smile. Tifa took her hand and shook it tentatively. Vincent introduced Tifa in return, who smiled cautiously, then turned back to Vincent.<p>

"So, tell me you're hungry. We didn't have much of a breakfast rush today."  
>Vincent nodded and allowed Aria to step in front of him as they entered the warm building.<br>The main level was a quaint cafe-style restaurant with a long oak bar. An older couple sipped coffee in a back corner booth.  
>"Can I take your jackets? Or, you know," she trailed humorously, as Vincent's cloak had been a source of several jokes during their travels with Cloud. Vincent cocked his head slightly in appreciation of her humor, and removed his cloak, as Aria unzipped and removed her jacket. Tifa's eyes casually wandered across the light scars and dark tattoos left visible by Aria's black, sleeveless top. She offered them seats at the bar and poured two cups of tea.<br>"Well, you just missed Cloud. He left with Barret to stock up on supplies for winter. They've been saying we're going to get a lot of snow this year. It's certainly cold, but it hasn't snowed in Nibelheim since we were kids, so, I guess we'll see. Anyway, they'll be back tonight," she trailed off, tiring of small talk. "Well, I'm going to get you two some breakfast, and we're going to talk,"she said, turning on her heels and disappearing into a small kitchen off the bar.  
>Aria took a long look around. "This is nice," she commented, "peaceful. Why don't you move here?" she asked nonchalantly.<br>He succinctly answered, "No."  
>It took only a moment to register, before she turned back to the bar and watched her tea steam. "Sorry."<p>

Shortly after, Tifa returned with two plates of eggs, muffins, hashbrowns, and fruit. "Here, you two look like you need this," she noted, setting the plates in front of the pair, then sliding a barstool to her own side of the bar. She sat and palmed her own cup of tea. Vincent had taken two small bites before she could hold her questions no longer.  
>"Where did you go?" Tifa asked.<br>"North. Forgotten City," he answered. At this, Aria turned her head sharply to face him, listening intently.  
>Tifa chuckled. "Yes, I can see you liking that place. So, you were there for..."<br>"Three months."  
>Tifa turned on Aria. "And you met him there?"<br>"Not...exactly, no. We met before you all left for the last time," she explained, treading around her own history. "We ate dinner at the same restaurant, and had some things in common. So, we kept in touch."  
>Tifa went silent at this explanation. It sounded nothing like the Vincent she knew. He did not even carry a cell phone. "I see," was her only response.<br>"Have you heard from the others?" Vincent asked quietly.  
>Tifa smiled. "I have. Cid is still working on getting the Shera up and running again. He's thinking of starting an emergency transportation service once it's flyable again. Nanaki comes by every few weeks. He is still in the middle of some self-discovery, I think. He's having trouble adjusting to life without Bugenhagen. I don't know much about Yuffie right now. She sent a letter telling me how close she's become with her father, but that's about it. Barret's helping clean up Corel, splitting his time between there and here. Marlene stays with us. And Cloud...is quiet. He has this new bike... so he travels a lot. But he takes care of us."<br>Aria noticed Marlene sitting on the shadowed staircase watching them intently. She smiled and nodded to her, and Marlene hid her face.  
>"I'm sure you've heard about Edge," Tifa started. Aria nodded, Vincent did not move. Tifa continued, "...the new city north of Midgar? We're planning on moving there after this winter. Reeve is working to get the WRO up and running on its own, so we thought we could be of more help if we were not hours away," she explained. "I mean, we <em>were<em> thinking of going. But there have been some pretty gruesome crimes against the people trying to help rebuild. Someone wants Midgar to stay down, I suppose."  
>Aria nodded, as though hearing this for the first time. The older couple stood and walked toward the door. Tifa thanked them and began cleaning up the cafe. She offered the pair a more comfortable seat on a couch near the picture windows at the front of the building. She joined them after locking the front door and flipping over her "Open" sign, and sat across the wooden coffee table in an over-sized chair.<br>"So, you're looking for a place to stay?" she guessed, smiling warmly at Vincent.  
>"No, I don't expect you to do that. We'll stay at the inn," he countered.<br>"Nonsense! We'd love to have you. And a friend of Vincent's is a friend of mine," she told Aria warily, secretly wishing she would remove her sunglasses. Aria smiled and scratched lightly at her shin.  
>"I do have a favor to ask," Vincent said. "I'm not nearly the healer you are, and Aria needs some help."<p>

Aria pulled up her left pant leg to show the wicked gash. "I think there's glass in it," she explained.

"Oh, wow," Tifa exclaimed calmly while kneeling down on one knee to look at the wound. "Follow me," she said, and led Aria upstairs to a large bathroom. Vincent remained on the couch.

Once upstairs, Tifa sat Aria down in a decorative chair and propped her leg up on the commode. While digging around in a cabinet for medical supplies, Tifa began asking more questions.

"So, how exactly did you two begin talking at that restaurant? Vincent is one of the most...reserved...people I've ever met."

Aria smiled. "Yes, he is quiet. I approached him. We were both alone, so, I went out on a limb."

"And he actually spoke to you?"

"Well, it took some convincing. We had a few drinks, and, if you can believe it, he followed me to the Cosmo Harvest Festival."

Tifa shook her head in disbelief as she carefully cleaned the dried blood around the wound. "Goodness. You think you know somebody..."

"No, he was still stoic as ever. It was quite a sight. We talked some, mostly just drank ourselves tired. He went off to bed, and that was that. We didn't see each other again until just recently in Edge."

"And now...?"

"Traveling, I guess. He said you could fix me up."

Tifa held Aria's leg down gently as she started digging around for glass. Aria hissed in pain immediately. "How exactly did this happen?"

"Landed on broken glass in Midgar."

Tifa nodded, and ended her inquisition. "I think I have it. Hold on," she warned, then grabbed a tiny shard of glass with her forceps. As it came out, Aria exhaled heavily. Tifa immediately poured disinfectant on the new gap in the wound. It bubbled reactively.

"Holy shit, is that acid?" Aria asked, removing her sunglasses quickly and pressing the back of her hand against her tightly closed eyes.

Tifa laughed softly. "I know, it's horrible, but this will help it heal so much faster. Just one more little piece, I think, then we can wrap you up."

As the stinging faded, Aria lowered her hand and watched Tifa work. Another shard came out, followed by another intense cleansing.

"See? The second one isn't so bad," Tifa mused. She looked up at Aria and the glass bottle of disinfectant slid from her hand, shattering on the floor.

Tifa stood up quickly and backed up to the doorway. "What happened to you? Who are you?" she demanded. Immediately, Vincent was behind her, his hand on her shoulder.

"Tifa, it's alright. I know..." he said, trying to calm her.

"Her eyes, Vincent! Look at her eyes!"

"She was a Shinra casualty. It's okay. She's not...dangerous," he lied.

Aria remained, frozen in her chair, leg still propped up. Vincent squeezed Tifa's shoulder in reassurance. She took a deep breath and stepped toward Aria again. "What happened?"

Aria looked down while she spoke, "I knew some things the company didn't want me to know. They tried Mako poisoning to clear it out."

"And you...survived?" Tifa asked, astonished. Even her beloved Cloud had not emerged from his poisoning unscathed.

"Eventually...I guess I did."

"...I'm so sorry," Tifa said sincerely. "Truly. That's...horrible. ...Here, let's get you bandaged." She returned to her work, placing an adhesive bandage over the wound. "I'm going to give you this plastic covering. You can take a long bubble bath up here and relax for a while, then we'll wrap you up with some proper gauze afterward. Let me get you some things," Tifa said, leaving the bathroom in search of spare towels, while Vincent cleaned up broken bottle.

Aria fingered through her wild hair self-consciously. "I must look pretty rough," she said to Vincent, who remained in the doorway.

"Travel weary, that's all."

Tifa returned with a change of clothes and two sets of towels and placed them on the wide counter top. "I have this for you," Tifa said, handing Aria a bottle of green bubble bath soap, "and I know you didn't bring anything, so please help yourself to anything you need. There's a blow-dryer, brushes, I think there's an unopened toothbrush that you're welcome to take. I have to take Marlene across town for a play date, but we should be back in a couple of hours. So, please...make yourself at home." She had overcompensated by talking only to Aria, then smiled as she turned and saw Vincent. As she passed by him on her way out, she put her hand on his shoulder and lightly added, "You, too."

He watched her walk down the hall and disappear into a bedroom, returning to the hallway holding hands with Marlene. The two gingerly descended the stairs and he listened, as the door closed behind them. The sound of water running in the bathtub drew his attention back to the bathroom. He turned back to face Aria and was met with a surprising sight.

Aria faced the bathtub, topless, her dark hair cascading down a drastically different back than he had seen months ago. The black phoenix still spanned her back, but had lost the upper half of its left wing to a dark metal plate that replaced her shoulder blade. The Shinra scientists had not bothered to stitch the piece under her skin, but instead had quickly fused her skin to the outer edges. In the middle of the metal rested his bullet.

Vincent stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. As he walked down the hallway he inspected the photographs hung randomly all over the walls. Many of them were from the Gold Saucer, where Aeris had somehow convinced everyone to relax and enjoy the night. Cloud and Aeris at the Round Square. Cid petting a Chocobo at the races. Barret and Tifa laughing as Yuffie snowboards in the Wonder Square. Someone had even managed to photograph Vincent sitting on the front steps of the Ghost Inn cleaning his gun, Nanaki curled up beside him. There were several photographs of Tifa and Cloud as children in Nibelheim. Further down the hallway were two photographs of Aeris and Marlene. Above them, several images of The Shera: Yuffie lying on her back on the deck; Cid at the helm; Tifa and Cloud looking out over the railing at Wutai.

Vincent returned to the couch downstairs and watched the uneventful streets of Nibelheim for a long while, losing himself in his thoughts. The bright sun prevented the passersby from watching him back. Eventually, he heard the door upstairs open, and he turned his head back toward the staircase.

Aria came down in her loaned clothing: brown pants that were a bit too short and a long-sleeved black shirt that left her shoulders exposed. Her hair was smooth and shiny, well-brushed for the first time in several days.

Upon seeing Vincent sitting in front of the windows, Aria walked across the small cafe and sat next to him. "I feel...better. Thank you for bringing me here. She's kind."

"She is. There is no safer place for you than in the company of these people," he said. She could hear the deep respect in his words.


	10. Familiar Faces

"Tifa really doesn't like my new look," Aria mused. Vincent immediately picked up on the reference.

"She hasn't seen anything good come from Mako. Cloud completely lost his identity. Sephiroth's case speaks for itself, and was probably at the forefront of her reaction," he explained. "You're new, and she was protecting herself and her family."

"Well, true, but I'm with _you_."

Both went silent at this utterance. For the first time since the Harvest, they had time together that did not require one running after the other, sleeping, or arguing. They were lost in the freedom. Finally, she spoke again, but it did not ease the tension.

"You didn't scare me off, you know. That night."

He needed no reminder. They both stared straight ahead, out the window.

She continued, "You were...amazing. _Are_ amazing. I just...that wasn't what we needed that night."

"You don't have to explain anything. I never thought about that," he replied. She visibly shrank into herself. "I mean...that's not..."

Finally, she laughed, and turned to face him. "What's wrong with us? Are we sixteen?"

He still looked ahead. She rested her side against the back of the couch and stretched her arm along the back of it, running her fingers through the ends of his hair on his shoulder.

"You thought about that," she accused playfully, her eyes narrowed at him.  
>Still facing forward, his voice became a whisper, "I thought about that."<p>

"Yeah, I thought about that, too. I still do." She felt his shoulder tense and grinned. "And I think about what would have happened had you not come into _Grey Haus_ that night. And how damn lucky I am that you did. You could have killed me in the hospital."

He nodded slowly.

"But you didn't. Because..." she trailed, expectantly.

He finally answered. "Because you are troubled, but you are not an evil person. In Cosmo, I saw how truly alive you are. I suppose I was drawn to that. It would be criminal to extinguish such a flame."

Her grin broadened. "That's the nicest things I've heard in a while. How do you say such kind words through a clenched jaw?"

He sighed at the coming admission. "I'm not completely at ease with you, Aria. There are still too many things about you that worry me."

She pulled her hand back and rested her head in it, exhaling dramatically, disregarding his claim. "Please. What's there for someone like you to fear?"

"Your status in the Turks. They don't hand that pin out to just anyone," he remarked.

"Well, you've got a point, there. I did earn that fair and square. But that was years ago," she dismissed.

"You're...volatile, and unpredictable. I can't tell if you're at peace or preparing to attack me," he continued.

"Well, I can tell you, I'm not going to assault you. You fed me, and got me a warm bath," she joked.

"I lost control of my situation with Rufus yesterday. My actions were...inexcusable. I didn't handle it well at all, and I cannot figure out why I was so...brash," he explained, his eyes lowering to his hands in his lap.

"Maybe..." she started, sliding across the couch to sit directly next to him, "you were defending something meaningful. Of course, you've done that before, but you've had Cloud and the others to help...and hold you back. Maybe..." her voice became velvet as she placed her hand on top of his golden claw, "you were overcome with some animal need..." She smoothly maneuvered her body across his and straddled his legs, facing him, then leaned her head into the crook of his neck, and purred, "...to protect...what's yours." He exhaled heavily as her warm breath danced on his cool neck. "And to witness your own strength, how far you're willing to go..." she ran her fingers across his chest, and unbuttoned his collar, "can be...terrifying," she whispered. He inhaled the scent of her silky hair as she placed light kisses along his neck. "But is this frightening?" she asked teasingly, sliding her lips across his throat. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to relax into her touch.

"This?" she asked, nibbling his earlobe. He involuntarily ran his hands up her sides, pulling her closer.

"No," he whispered huskily.

She removed her right hand from his chest and placed it on his leg. Vincent could feel the difference in their body temperatures as her hand slid at a painfully slow pace up the inside of thigh, all the while, her lips caressing his neck. He raised his right hand and intertwined his fingers in her hair, and was rewarded with a smile against his neck. Her kisses moved along his jawline until her mouth hovered over his, and once there, she paused, offering him the chance at the first move.

Vincent raised his head slightly and their lips met for the second time. Aria's lips parted as she let him take her lower lip in between his own. He tried to note as many details about this moment as possible: her warm breath on his cheek, her arms wound around his neck, the slight pull on his hair in her fingers, the smell of perfumed soap on her skin, the smooth texture of her lips combined with the sharpness of her teeth during those few playful nips at his mouth, the warmth of her skin under his right hand. His grip on her sides tightened, his fingers digging into her back. Aria gasped as her skin broke underneath his claws. Immediately, he pulled away to apologize and examine the damage.

As he did so, she quickly buttoned his collar and smoothed his hair. Before he could crane his neck around to her back, she was standing, then walking around to the back of the couch.

"We're back!" he heard Tifa announce cheerfully, the door swinging closed behind her with the chime of a bell. In her arms were two paper grocery bags. Marlene held one small bag.

"Let me help you with those," Aria offered, taking one of the overfilled bags from Tifa and disappearing into the kitchen. Tifa thanked her, then set her and Marlene's bag on the bar and turned to Vincent.

"I hope you don't mind company for dinner. Good news travels fast," she announced.

Assured that his appearance was as usual, he stood and met her at the bar. "Let me guess..."

"Yep. Cid and Yuffie are already en route. I couldn't have stopped them if I tried," she apologized halfheartedly.

Aria returned to the bar, and Tifa looked her over. "How's your leg? Did you find everything you needed upstairs?"

"Much better, and I did. Thanks again," Aria answered.

"Of course! There's a great little shop just across the street there, if you need some warmer clothing. The owner is a friend of mine named Johanna. She has plenty on her shelves, but loves to design custom wear, too. And the general store is right next door," she explained.

"Thanks. I think I'll head over there, actually. I could use a few things..." Aria said before slipping out the front door.

"I'm going to unload these bags and go fix up the guest room, and you should rest. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night," Tifa warned Vincent. Twenty minutes later, he was lying on a dangerously comfortable bed in the guest room at the end of the upstairs hallway.

The room was decorated with more artifacts from their travels. Tifa was the only member thoughtful enough to realize she may never see some of those rare places again. A series of pressed flowers decorated a long wall, clearly a labor of love. In the center of the display was a small orange flower from the Ancient Forest, guarded on both sides by flowers from Aeris's church.

Just before drifting into a light sleep, Vincent felt eyes on his back. He turned over and found Marlene standing in the hallway staring at him. He stared back.

"Marlene, come eat lunch," Tifa called from downstairs. The little girl ran from the door and Vincent resumed his attempt at napping, trying to think of anything but Aria.

Three hours later, he awoke with a start to the sound of a booming voice downstairs.

"There's my girl! Come here, what did you and Tifa do today?" he heard. Barret. "Cloud's adjusting some trinket or another on that bike. That thing won't last, I can tell you that much. But it looks like this is going to be the year. We just beat a blizzard gettin' in here. It's already started snowing, but it'll get worse in an hour or so."

Vincent sat up in the bed and looked around the room. No Aria.

"Wow! What do you know? Well, take your jacket off and get some coffee. We're staying closed and having company for dinner," he heard Tifa say, undoubtedly with a grin.

He listened to the footsteps head toward the coat rack by the front door and waited.

"Holy hell! Where is the lanky bastard?" Barret shouted in surprise.

At this, Vincent rose and headed downstairs.

"Well, where the hell have you been?" Barret asked loudly, but warmly.

"I've been...traveling."

"Well it's nice to see you in one piece. Get some coffee, you'll freeze without that cape on. It's snowing, you know," he joked. Vincent's inability to retain heat was common knowledge amongst this group.

Vincent sat at the far corner of the bar, next to a dark brick fireplace, facing the open room. Tifa handed him a mug of coffee. He took it graciously and watched Barret tickle Marlene into a fit of laughter.

"Barret, Marlene and I were wondering if she could visit Sandy for a sleepover tonight," Tifa suggested. "She asked me to inform you that she ate all of her lunch _and_ took a nap this afternoon," she continued, winking at Marlene, who giggled in return.

"She did, huh? Well...I guess that'd be okay," he answered. Moments later Barret was walking Marlene across the street.

Tifa wiped down the bar with a damp rag. "Aria has sure been gone a while. I wonder what's keeping her. Then again, Johanna's a talker," Tifa said mostly to herself. "Is Aria? She seems...lively."

Vincent nodded.

"So...you spent that night in Cosmo. At the Harvest Festival?" she inquired innocently.

"I did."

"I would never have taken that for your kind of scene. You just keep on surprising me," she teased. Just then, the door swung open with a loud bang. Cid Highwind stepped heavily into the cafe.

"Vincent fuckin' Valentine. How the hell are ya'? I didn't think we'd be seein' you again, old pal," he said heartily. Vincent met him halfway across the floor and the two shook hands. Cid pulled him brashly into a one-armed hug. "It's good to see you, Vince."

"You, too, Cid," he answered quietly.

Vincent's relationship with Cid had been slightly different from his connection to the rest of the group. They had helped each other out of more than one life-or-death situation. Cid had worked harder than the rest to pull Vincent out of his shell. They often roomed together at inns, leading to several late night conversations expressing regrets, fears, and hopes. Vincent would listen patiently while Cid ranted about Shinra, then offer his own succinct thoughts that often left Cid silent in contemplation. After Sephiroth's defeat, it had especially pained Cid to see Vincent drift away with nowhere to go, and he had honestly feared for the ex-Turk's life. This reunion was quite welcome.

"So you're back in civilization for a while?" Cid asked, as Tifa took his jacket and scarf.

She added, "And he brought a guest."

Cid looked at Tifa then, judging her sincerity. "A what?"

"A girl," she continued, clearly teasing Vincent. He caught on quickly.

"Tifa, please," he chided.

She quickly turned and hung Cid's things on the rack. "I'm sorry. A _woman._"

Cid scanned the large room. "Well, I'll believe this when I see it."

"She should be back any time now. Especially if that snow is coming..." said Tifa.

Vincent reclaimed his seat by the fireplace as Cid helped himself behind the bar, pouring an obviously strong, dark liquor into a glass. He downed the drink quickly and sighed.

"Miss Lockhart, you know how to stock a bar," he complimented.

"Thank you. You can just put your money in the register," she teased. "I'm going to get started on dinner, so you two catch up a while," she said before disappearing into the kitchen.

Cid sat down near Vincent with another small glass of whisky.

"So," he began, lighting a cigarette between his lips, "the Forgotten City, huh?"

Vincent nodded. "I needed some time to...reflect. Figure things out."

"Ah, please, that's just what everyone kept telling you. You had your shit together from the day they dragged you out of that basement," Cid countered, dismissing Vincent's claim. "You've always kept it together." Sensing too much sincerity, he quickly added, "And that ain't right. It's like all that death wasn't a big deal to ya. It's downright concernin'."

Vincent shook his head with a barely discernible smile. "Ah, Cid, you cut to the core of me."

The blond man slammed his hand on the counter playfully. "WHAT? A JOKE? AND I'M THE ONLY ONE TO HEAR IT? They'll never believe me, now, you bastard!" Without speaking, he offered Vincent a cigarette. He refused.

"And who is this lady you're traipsin' 'round with all of a sudden? I don't trust her," he said. "I don't trust anyone who willingly runs around with a dark son of a bitch like you."

"Her name is Aria. I met her the night before we left for the Crater," Vincent tried to explain.

"Aha! THAT'S why you didn't come with any of us!" he announced, amused with his conclusion.

"No. We lost touch while I was in the Forgotten City. Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd see her again."

"But...?"

"I caught up with her in Edge. And that's all."

"_You_ pursued _her?_" Cid asked in more disbelief.

"In a sense, I suppose. It's not any dramatic story, I'm sorry," he lied, glossing over his hiring by Rufus Shinra, shooting Aria out of a third-story window, bringing Reno to edge of death to protect her. "We're just traveling together."

"Mmhmm. TIFA! WHERE'S CLOUD?" he yelled into the kitchen.

She answered something about a hardware store.

"Kid can't even come say hello to his guests," Cid grumbled into his glass.

"He's not really a kid, you know. He's been through just as much as any of us," Vincent said, defending Cloud against what was simply Cid's personality.

"Yeah, I know," Cid said, letting the air out of his argument. The door swung open again, and this time, a squeal filled the air.

Yuffie's arms were around Vincent's neck before he could even stand to greet her. Barret reentered the cafe and closed the door behind him. "I couldn't stop her," he apologized humorously.

"None of us can," Cid laughed. "You're going to strangle him, kid."

"Oh, Vincent! I'm so glad to see you! Why didn't you call anyone?"

"I'm sorry, Yuffie," was all he could manage. Finally, she let go, only to attack Cid with an equally vicious hug. He patted her on the back, and she was off to find Tifa.

Cid and Barret rearranged the furniture, sliding the leather chairs and couch nearer to the fireplace. They then arranged three tables together to fit the group of seven comfortably for dinner. Once finished, the three men settled into the leather furniture. Barret and Cid talked about Cid's plans for a transportation service while Vincent warmed his hand by the fire and sipped coffee.


	11. Tension

Eventually the door chimed open again, and the three men stood. Yuffie and Tifa came out from the kitchen, and found Aria walking in with snowflakes in her hair.

She had changed into new clothes from Johanna's shop. Tifa's loaned pants had been replaced with tighter leather pants, decorated with a loose silver belt around her hips. She wore a sheer black, long-sleeved shirt underneath a low-cut, sleeveless leather top, notably more form-fitting than her previous attire, all underneath her motorcycle jacket.

Everyone stared momentarily.

Breaking the silence, she raised her right hand. "Hello," she said.

Vincent stood, and Tifa rushed to her side. "I'm so glad you found some things! Isn't Johanna great?"

"She is. We talked for quite a while- we lived in the same town for about ten years. And she did this," she said, gesturing to her freshly painted red nails and new smoky makeup that made her eyes stand out even more.

By this point, Cid and Barret had stepped up, and Vincent was at her side, almost protectively. He spoke first.

"This is Aria Marx," he introduced, his hand resting on her back. "Aria, this is Cid Highwind, Barret Wallace." Aria shook hands warmly with both men.

"I'm honored to meet you," she said kindly.

"Nah, don't be. We're just people," Cid said. Both men looked one second too long into her eyes. She noticed, and looked down at the bags in her hand.

"And this is Yuffie Kisaragi," Vincent finished.

Yuffie pulled Aria into a hug, disregarding the glow from her eyes. She was good for that, Vincent noted.

"Well, no matter what you say, I'm honored to meet you all. I owe...everything to you, I suppose."

The collective group was unaccustomed to gratitude and shied away from her thanks.

"I'm just going to run these upstairs," she said, and slipped away from the ten eyes.

Cid slapped Vincent on the back proudly, saying all he needed to say with the gesture. Vincent shook his head in return.

"So what's on the menu, Tifa?" Barret asked.

"Snow hare stew. Nice winter-night food. Warms your bones," she said, returning to the kitchen. Barret followed, and returned with three beers.

He gave one to Cid, who thanked him with, "Thanks, buddy. Always thinkin' of your friends, that's what I like about you."

He kept one for himself and offered the last to Vincent, who nodded in appreciation and took it without hesitation. Barret and Cid exchanged raised-eyebrow glances.

"Well, leave it to Cloud to make the fashionably late entrance, I guess," Cid mused.

"He's probably caught in a snow drift by now," Barret returned.

"Oh, it's not that bad yet," Yuffie chimed in. "He's probably just cleaning himself up to be in my presence. How could he face me with grime all over him? He'd die, I'm sure."

"That must be it," Cid laughed.

Aria descended the stairs sat on the armrest of Vincent's chair, lowering her hands to the fire.

"It's freezing out there," she said to nobody.

"So what do you do?" Yuffie asked Aria from the opposite armrest of Cid's chair.

"Well, I recently left a long-time job for something a little easier on the body. So, I'm just traveling right now until I figure out what I want to be when I grow up," she answered smoothly. Not smoothly enough. Cid and Barret had nodded at her humor, but Yuffie was not satisfied.

"What _did_ you do?" she asked.

"Yuffie," Vincent quietly warned.

"No, it's okay. It's behind me," Aria said. "I was an Officer...of the Turks."

The air froze and Vincent closed his eyes. The silence dragged on as the group took in this information.

Cid noticed the rare creases at the corners of Vincent's eyes and jumped in to help. "Oh! Naw, I get it. You two," he said, waving a finger back and forth between Vincent and Aria, "I get why you two...I get it!"

Yuffie laughed nervously and nodded.

"How'd you get out? And when did you leave?" Barret asked in a more serious tone.

"I left Shinra the day before you left for the Crater. I just…walked away."

"Then you were working against us the whole damn time!" he accused, his volume increasing.

"I was doing what I had to do. I came to the same realization as the rest of you, just a little later," she said, holding her own against the volatile man.

"Do you know how many people were killed because of you?" he asked. Cid put his hand on Barret's knee to calm him.

"Alright, buddy. She's not hurtin' anyone _now_, is she?" the pilot said.

"Did you think detonating reactors in the middle of a city was a victimless crime?" she asked in a quiet, taunting tone.

"We did what was right," he said, clearly beaten.

Vincent opened his eyes, the potential storm having passed. Tifa reentered and set the tables in the middle of the floor. "We're not waiting for him. He knows the rules," she announced. At this, everyone migrated to the dining area.

Dinner commenced, Cid talked about the growth of Rocket Town, Tifa explained what she knew about the construction of Edge. Yuffie chattered away about the martial arts classes she was teaching in Wutai. Halfway through the meal, the front door finally opened, and Cloud walked in, covered in snow.

A collective cheer filled the room at his entrance and he scanned all the faces at the table.

"Well, this wasn't really supposed to be a surprise party, but it looks like that's what it turned into. So, surprise, Cloud!" Tifa explained.

"I had no idea, I would have come sooner," he offered. Everyone stood and greeted their former leader warmly. The blond made his way to Vincent.

"I'm surprised to see you. How are you?" he asked.

Vincent nodded. "I am well. It's good to see you," he replied. The two men shook hands.

Aria had been finishing her thoughts on air travel with Cid when she caught Cloud's eye. He stepped around Vincent to greet Cid and meet this newcomer.

"Highwind, charming as ever," he noted. "Who is this you brought?" he asked, extending his hand to Aria. She shook it firmly.

"Aria...Marx. It's an honor to meet you, Cloud," she spoke for herself.

"She didn't come in with me, though," Cid started. Cloud looked at Cid, who motioned with his head toward Vincent.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't realize..." he apologized.

"That's alri-"

"She's a Turk," Barret interjected. Tifa slapped his arm with the back of her hand.

"What are you doing?" she growled under her breath.

Aria grinned at Barret's interruption coolly. "Ex-Turk."

Cloud was unfazed as he responded to Barret, "Of course she is, look who she's with."

Everyone chuckled at his dismissal of Barret's concern, and once Cloud had served himself, the meal, and drinking, resumed.

"What have you heard about the attacks in Edge?" Cid asked Cloud.

"I don't know much. The explosions a few days ago were definitely the biggest attack yet. Not good publicity for this new city the WRO is trying to build. Someone must have found out that Shinra Inc. was providing the resources."

"I didn't hear about this. What happened?" Yuffie asked.

"Some kind of terrorist attacking Shinra employees at construction sites in Edge and intel transfers from Midgar. A couple days ago twenty men were killed when their work trucks exploded."

"That's horrible!" Yuffie exlaimed. Tifa nodded in agreement.

Vincent took a long drink of water, eyeing Aria as he did so. Her facade was flawless. She was well-trained: she was frighteningly calm.

Cloud continued, "All reporting has stopped on it, though, which makes me think someone got him."

"And they're hopefully torturing the sick son of a bitch," Barret added.

"Amen to that," Cid said, toasting Barret's violent suggestion.

An hour later, a radio had been turned on. Cid and Barret remained at the table, talking over beers. Yuffie and Tifa sat at the end of the bar talking over overtly feminine drinks. Cloud, Vincent, and Aria had migrated to the leather furniture in front of the fireplace, and said little over glasses of whisky.

"I miss it, I think," Cloud said, trusting Vincent more than anyone with these thoughts. "Traveling the world, living and fighting for a cause."

"That was a very different way of life. You came into your own during that time. It's natural to feel somewhat lost," Vincent replied.

Cloud nodded. "I knew you'd say something like that."

Aria smiled at the exchange. She enjoyed Cloud's unimposing company. He had not asked how the two met, what they were doing together, why they were in Nibelheim. He did not care about those answers.

Instead, in a lull in conversation, he asked, "Mako and Jenova, or just Mako?"

"Just Mako."

"How?"

"Tank."

"How long?"

She shrugged. "Somewhere between twelve and seventeen days."

"When?"

"About three months ago."

"It will fade. Without an addition of foreign cells, like Jenova, it can't remain in the body permanently. Why you?"

"Punishment. For leaving the Turks."

"And you got her out?" he asked Vincent. In response, Vincent simply shook his head. "You got out on your own?" he then asked, disbelief playing in his voice.

"I did."

Cloud raised his glass to her. She raised hers to him, and they downed the contents together.


	12. Vicious Games

"Screw Scarlet. Marry Shera. Kill Elena. You made that pretty, easy, bud," the three heard Cid say in between hearty laughs.

"Oh, god. This happened the last time those two were together," Cloud said in a tone that suggested the game was only going to get worse.  
>"Alright, alright, I've got another one," Barret started.<p>

"No, you wasted that turn," Cid countered, downing the rest of his fourth beer. "TIFA! Barret, Reeve, Tseng!"

Tifa shook her head in disapproval. "No way. No way am I playing that horrible game. That's how fights get started, you know."

"Tifa," Cid called. "Tee-faaaa. Come on."

She sat up straight in shock. The atmosphere was too playful for anyone to come to her defense.

"You can't be serious," she said as everyone waited.

"I should have put money on this," Cid said.

Tifa, three drinks into the evening, finally dropped her guard. "I can't believe you put this on me," she said to Cid, narrowing her eyes. "Screw Reeve. Marry Tseng. Kill Barret. I'm sorry!" she shouted, covering her face with her hands.

Cid and Yuffie erupted with laughter. Even Cloud chuckled at her embarrassment.

"It's just that we've been friends for so long, it would be weird-" Tifa tried to defend her choices.

"No, that's fine. I get it," Barret said. "I'm too much man for you, clearly."

The room roared with laughter again as everyone prepared themselves to be targeted, and resumed their conversations.

"Did you work with them?" Cloud asked Aria, referring to Tseng's group of Turks.

"Only once, out in the field. I had my own company," she trailed, her eyes suddenly on her hands in her lap.

"You were an Officer?" he continued, intrigued by his guest's past.

She nodded.

"Wow. So you were above Tseng, then," Cloud surmised.

"Yes, but in a separate division. He rarely came to me for orders."

"Then you knew Rufus well."

Vincent watched her face for an answer. Aria said nothing for a long moment.

"I did. Not while he acted as President, though."

"Eeeew!" Yuffie shouted from the bar. Tifa was laughing, the game clearly still on.

"You wanted to hang around with these people, so you're not immune to this torture," Tifa said, giggling.

"Alright, alright. Screw Rude. Marry Cloud. Kill Cid."

"Oh, what the hell?" Cid protested.

"No, it's good, you wouldn't want to get tangled up with that brat, anyway," Barret joked. Yuffie threw a balled up napkin at his head.

Cloud rose and headed for the bar. Aria turned to Vincent. "These people are ruthless," she said lightheartedly.

"I witnessed these people mix camaraderie with alcohol once before at the Gold Saucer. It will get worse."

Aria laughed at his phrasing. "And I witnessed you dance by firelight in the middle of the night. There's nothing wrong with letting loose every so often," she replied. He shrugged.

Cloud returned with three beers for the group by the fire. Barret increased the volume of the radio, Yuffie danced enthusiastically with Tifa.

"Cloud!" Yuffie called. His shoulders sank.

"She is wicked with this," he warned Vincent and Aria before turning his head to face the challenge.

"Tifa, Aria, Vincent."

Cid nearly fell backward from his chair in laughter. Even Tifa was laughing.

"Kill me," Vincent said, sending another wave of laughter around the room.

"I don't know," Cloud pondered, his drinks lifting his generally somber spirits. "For the sake of loyalty to my friends...screw Vincent, marry Tifa, kill Aria," he joked.

Everyone applauded his choice. "You couldn't," Aria taunted, feeding into the tension his answer had caused. They grinned at each other, both realizing the competitive nature they shared.

"That sounds like a challenge, kid!" Cid yelled before sliding the tables out of the center of the room.

"Don't cause any permanent damage," Vincent said. Aria and Cloud both faced Vincent for clarification. "Both of you."

Moments later, Aria and Cloud faced each other in a pseudo ring in the center of the floor. Cloud charged her, grabbing at her left wrist. She allowed his grip, and used it to spin her body into his, her back against his front, as if they were dancing. Before he could adjust his grip, her left leg had hooked around the back of his knee and brought him to the ground. He was defenseless as she raised her elbow, positioning it just above his nose, as she would if she were to actually knock him unconscious.

"Jeez, Cloud, did you give her that one, or are you getting that rusty?" Cid taunted as Yuffie and Tifa applauded the victory of their gender's representative. Cloud shook his head and stood, facing her again.

"It's simply different training," Aria offered.

Cloud waited, and motioned for Aria to come at him. She scanned the room, noticing the beams at the ceiling.

Vincent watched from his place near the fire, and accurately predicted her attack.

Aria lunged past Cloud, once again knocking his knees out as she passed. He did not see her launch herself from a chair up to the beam above his head while he was jumping to his feet again. Yuffie applauded her acrobatics. Cloud turned to face Aria and instantly felt her legs wrap around his neck from above. He looked up to find her hanging on to the thick wooden beam with both hands. "How?" he asked in confusion.

"Difference in training. Got me?" she asked. He nodded and gripped the tops of her thighs. She let go of the beam and he started to lower her to the floor. His drinks got the better of him, and the two toppled down, out of balance, laughter erupting around the room. Even Vincent grinned at their condition.

Cloud took the opportunity to put his SOLDIER training to use one more time. He grabbed Aria's left leg and spun her onto her stomach. She laughed at the continuation of the contest. He dragged her closer and pinned her bent leg with his torso, reaching for her arms.

"Tifa, your floor is impeccably clean," Aria noted.

"Thanks!" Tifa shouted in return, laughing at the sight.

Aria pushed her torso up onto her hands to examine her situation. Cloud grabbed her right arm out from under her and pulled it behind her back, resting his weight on her back, expecting her left arm to bend under her. It did not.

Cid leaned forward in his chair as she held her own and Cloud's body up with her left arm, twisting her right leg around behind Cloud's. The pilot turned his head to Vincent, who silently watched the spectacle of his two friends. Aria managed to twist her body around enough wrap her leg around Cloud's thigh and pull him off balance. As soon as he released her opposing arm and leg, she stood, facing him.

"At this point, I would have a weapon, and you would be in real trouble," she explained.

"Sure, sure," Cloud dismissed. "Barret. Shera, Snow, Pollen Salitas."

Barret laughed loudly at his options. "Snow, Shera, Pollen," he answered with little thought.

Cloud and Aria shook hands and went back to their respective places by the fire. The radio was turned higher. Tifa stepped over to Cloud and handed him a fresh drink. He took a single sip before she pulled him back out into the middle of the floor, where she wrapped her arms around his neck and danced slowly while he shuffled from left to right with her.

Cid lit a cigarette for himself Barret, and the two began a card game with Yuffie, a small pile of coins placed in the center of their designated table. "You two get over here so I can take your money," Cid called to Aria and Vincent.

Reluctantly, the two joined the game. Twenty minutes later, a significant sum of gil sat in a neat stack in front of Vincent.

"This is ridiculous. I've never lost this many times in a row," Aria stated.

"He's always been a sneaky bastard at cards," Cid recalled. "You took all my money at the Saucer, didn't you?"

"I did. And I gave it back," Vincent reminded him.

"Fool," Yuffie accused. "Never give it back! Teach 'em a lesson!"

"Big talk for a girl on her last few coins, there," Cid replied.

Yuffie laughed in his face. "Please. This is just what I was willing to give up to you losers. There's plenty more where this came from."

"So, Miss Shinra," Barret started. Aria visibly rolled her eyes. "Reno, Rufus,...Vince."

As slyly as possible, everyone in the room turned to hear her response. She thought for a long minute. "Screw Reno. Marry Vincent." Cid slapped Vincent on the back. "Kill Rufus."

Her voice had an edge to it that only Vincent heard, and it sent a small chill down his spine.

"That's right! Kill that rich son of a bitch! Just like that fuckin' Weapon did!" Barret cheered, raising his beer to Aria. She raised her glass in return and toasted the idea.

The excitement caused by Barret's question led to the next obvious target. Yuffie was the first to verbalize her curiosity.

"Vincent! Tifa, Aria, Cid." The whole room laughed at this grouping, yet listened carefully for a response.

"I've already been killed once tonight," Cid said playfully.

"We all know how you two feel about each other," Barret shouted.

Vincent finished the last of the dark liquid in his fifth glass and pocketed the gil on the table, making it clear that he had no intention of returning the money after this teasing. Then, after a pause, he gave them what they wanted.

"Aria. Cid. Tifa."

As the names left his mouth, he tried to drag his thoughts away from the undeniable truth behind one of them.

Everyone, including Tifa and Aria, broke into uncontrollable laughter. Cid rose and wrapped his arms around Vincent's shoulders sloppily.

"I knew what we had was real," he joked, planting a kiss on the top of Vincent's head.

This had clearly ended the game, as no answer could top Vincent's.

Not long after, Cloud and Tifa were again dancing, apart from the group. Cid and Barret sat at their table, halfheartedly playing cards. Yuffie had stretched out on top of the bar and fallen asleep. Inhibitions dissolved by whisky, Aria stretched across Vincent's lap on the couch while the fire crackled away.

"That ain't right," Barret said under his breath. Cid furrowed his brow in confusion. "Cloud," Barret continued, "he has these moments with Tifa. He's all over her, holding her, whispering whatever to her. Then tomorrow he'll disappear for two days. He don't see what he's doin'."

"Yeah, but those two are bound to play that game forever. Ain't nobody else going to catch their eyes."

"I know. I just hate seein' that sad look in Tifa's eyes all the time. She wasn't ever this down before he came back."

"Yeah, but like I said, I think they like the dysfunction."

Barret laughed. "And those two. What the hell..." he said, nodding at Vincent and Aria. At the moment, Aria was braiding a thin section of his hair while he looked into the fire.

"I think they're both twisted enough to be alright," Cid suggested.

"Who you think'd win in a fight? Cloud or Tifa?" Barret asked.

"Depends on what the fight's over, I'd bet. I'd put my money on Cloud, though," he answered, beginning another game of questions. "Tifa and Yuffie."

Barret thought. "Tifa. Cloud and Vince."

Cid sucked air through his teeth. "Shit. He's strong an' all, but Vince is just too damn quick. 'A difference in training,'" he joked, mimicking Aria's halfhearted apology for beating Cloud at his own game. "Those two," Cid said, motioning toward the fire.

Both men thought, shaking their heads. Simultaneously they answered, "Draw."

The radio had been turned down and the fire was out. Barret approached Yuffie at the bar. She remained still, deep in her drunken sleep.

"This ain't surprisin'," he said, picking her up and walking her over to the couch.

Cid had already claimed an over-stuffed chair, and was passed out, his head back, an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Nobody had dared to remove it for him.

Tifa approached Aria, swaying slightly as she said her goodnight. "I hope everything is comfortable for you tonight." She turned to Vincent, "There is a cot for you under the bed up there," she said, unable to keep a straight face. She put her hand on his shoulder as she passed them, heading upstairs.

Cloud lingered around the bar, gathering glasses and taking dishes to the kitchen. Minutes later, as nonchalantly as possible, he followed Tifa upstairs.

"You should sleep. It's been a long day," Vincent said to Aria as they stood at the bar. She nodded, and with that, headed for the stairs. As she started up, she flashed a loaded glance at him, then disappeared upstairs.

Barret had quickly passed out in the remaining chair. Vincent grinned at the wildness of the evening, and realized how much he had missed these colorful people. They drew him out of himself, kept him from the darkness of his endless thoughts. At this moment, however, no one could save him from the single thought that had taunted him throughout the entire evening. Someone was expecting him.


	13. Surrender

The door was closed when he approached. In the darkness of the hallway he could see dim light coming from under the door. Vincent did not knock before turning the knob. Upon entering the room, he saw Aria's back. She had removed her leather top, and only wore the sheer black undershirt. Her simple black bra was visible underneath, the right strap crossing her metal addition.

As he closed the door behind him, Aria turned around. They watched each other like predators. He took a step toward her, she took one backward.

"You've been awfully quiet tonight," she purred.

He remained still, unfazed. "Just watching you."

"Or watching out for me?"

"We both know you can take care of yourself."

Aria grinned at the compliment. Vincent took another two steps toward her. They stood, toe to toe, watching the other's face. He raised his right hand and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, then cupped her cheek. She leaned into the touch and closed her eyes. Her skin was comfortingly warm against his hand.

Eyes still closed, she reached for his left hand and placed the metal appendage on her side. With his dangerously pointed fingers, Vincent pulled her in closer. Glowing green eyes met red in a heated gaze. They stood, chest to chest, for a long moment while Vincent grappled with the sensation he'd felt only once before, and in her presence: surrender.

He surprised himself with the immediate depth of his kiss. There was no timidity now; she had tormented him long enough. Aria broke the kiss when her lips turned up into a grin. Upon opening his eyes he was met with a devilish smile, daring him to go further.

Again he pulled her into him, their lips meeting harshly. His left hand raised to mirror his right, firmly holding her face to meet his, her hair tangling in his fingers. Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps the demons residing within him, but something told him not to let her take over again. He pushed on, parting her lips further, his tongue dominating hers. His reward was an uncontrolled exhale as she leaned into him for support. This time he wanted to smile, but did not.

Aria grasped at the buttons on his collar, then stopped, and broke the kiss again. She started with his trademark crimson headband, finding the knot at his nape, untying it quickly, then unwinding the accessory and dropping it to the floor. Now free, his hair fell forward, framing his face wildly. She pushed long strands back over his shoulders and started on his collar once more. He watched her hands working on his heavy shirt and noticed that, despite all of her confidence and wildness, her slender fingers slightly trembled. This was new. His eyes moved from her face to her hands as he considered whether she was genuinely nervous or simply overcome with the intensity of her desire. Her eyes hardened in expression as she could no longer access the skin she was dying to expose. The buckles and clasps of the fabric refused her advances, slipping through her seemingly clumsy fingertips.

A gentle sense of frustration swept through Vincent. He wanted to curse himself for his choice of attire, for closing himself off. Before he had the chance to take over, Aria sighed, looking up at him in feigned helplessness. He pulled her in for a kiss to comfort her. As he did so, he felt her shift her weight awkwardly, then separate from him. Opening his eyes once more, he was met with an intensified smirk.

Aria had pulled a small knife from a holster around her ankle. She grabbed his collar roughly and plunged the knife into the fabric, slicing it from his neck to his stomach and tearing it from his body. Adrenaline coursed through his limbs, awakening a side of Vincent that he barely recognized outside of battle. He reached for her with his left hand, grasping the thin material of her shirt. The knife dropped to the floor just before her arms raised over her head expectantly. He obliged, lifting the material up and off of her, displaying the dark tattoos on the backs of her arms. The small knot in his stomach intensified as she slipped away from him and stretched out on the bed, her long legs draping off the side, arms over her head, dark hair sprawled around her head in an ironic halo.

Vincent approached the bed and met an expected fate. Her leather clad legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him onto his knees on the bed. His hands took over, and slowly slid from her hips to her knees, relishing the smoothness of the tight leather against her skin. He did not notice the faint trail his sharp fingertips left.

She straightened her left leg and placed her ankle on his right shoulder, the command on her face. He pushed the leather up her leg to find an empty knife holster wrapped around a tall boot. His fingers worked quickly to discard both, and the thin black nylon underneath. They mirrored the action with her right leg, and he lowered himself on top of her to kiss her once more. As he did so, their bodies connected in a way that made him forget to breathe. Aria sensed the weakening of his composure and took advantage of the opportunity, maneuvering herself out from under him, pushing him down onto his back, and straddling his waist.

His breath hitched as the kisses Aria placed along his neck turned to bites. Her hair tickled his chest as it fell over her shoulder. She ran the tip of her tongue along a short scar on his collarbone, kissed across a long faint line on his chest, tracing the lines down his torso. The knot in his stomach grew. Two warm hands started at his thighs and slid all the way down his legs, pulling off his boots. Just as quickly, they returned to his waist, no longer trembling. Vincent wanted to close his eyes as she began working on the clasps of his pants, but he forced himself to stay with her in this moment.

With surprising speed, the clasps were opened, and her fingers tugged the now-loose fabric down and off of his legs, leaving him in only a tight black pair of boxer-briefs that could scarcely hide an all-too-human reaction to her attention. He pushed himself up to sit at the edge of the bed where Aria stood. She ran her fingers through his wild black hair as he kissed and tasted the skin of her stomach, his fingers frantically unbuttoning the leather pants he enjoyed watching her wear.

Aria gently kicked the pants into the pile of clothing on the floor. Vincent returned his hands to her sides. Her back arched at the touch of his cool metal hand, pushing her into him. She bent her knees onto the bed and rested on his lap, her strong arms around his neck, hands in his hair. For another brief moment, they simply watched each other, each taking in the sight of the other's beautifully marred body.

Quickly after, he regained control, and pulled her waist closer to his own. The action forced his eyes closed. Heat radiated from her body as she pulled his hair, forcing the exposure of his neck. Her fluid, gentle movements were replaced with more desperate attempts to take him in. She roughly bit down on the crook on his neck as she ground her hips into him, eliciting a choked gasp and a tightening of his fingers on her sides. When he raised his head, he immediately met her lips in a frenzied kiss. Meanwhile, her right hand slid from the back of his head down his neck, across his cool, pale chest, down his lean abdomen, down, down...

A sound much like a growl escaped his throat, though he did not break the kiss. Her touch was soft again as she teased him, walking her fingertips back and forth across the fabric, then squeezing gently. This addictive torture did not last long. She dipped her fingers under the barrier of the fabric and pulled him free of the bounds, a rhythm building in her movements.

These sensations, which he had not felt in over thirty years, forced his heart to beat faster, his blood to surface. A faint flush crossed his cheekbones, his neck, his lips. He was appreciative of her boldness in this moment, as he grappled with sensations new to this altered body. Aria fearlessly led his right hand across her own chest and down her stomach. Once at the black fabric separating her from his hand, he surprised her. His left hand grabbed at the fabric, and his fingertips tore into it, tearing it away from her. A throaty laugh escaped her as she reveled in the wildness this closeness had brought out in him. Both hands now tightly grasping her waist, he pulled her even closer. Neither lowered their gaze as she positioned herself above him. The question flashed across her face; he nodded. Breath left his lungs as she lowered herself onto him, her head falling back in ecstasy. She maintained a tortuously slow rhythm, taunting him to take over once more. He constrained himself by palming her back. This movement made her press her torso into his, and her arms again circled his neck. She grabbed a handful of his hair again, and was rewarded with a bittersweet screech of metal on metal as his fingertips scratched across her shoulder blade.

The sound seemed to drag him back to his senses, which were now pushing him to take control. Using the strength he hid so well, he pulled her tightly to him and rotated their bodies, lying Aria gently on her back. His hair fell over his shoulders in a curtain around her face. She pulled it all to the left to watch his face, wrapping her long legs around his slim waist. They were a tangle of limbs against each other, yet quickly found a rhythm that left them both breathless. Dark strands of hair stuck to his neck with a feeling he almost did not recognize: sweat. Aria's nails mimicked his earlier action, scratching down his back, causing him to clench his jaw to keep from crying out. Their fluid rhythm became more reckless, bites and kisses being planted along their necks and shoulders. He noticed her side was bleeding from a scratch, and in this moment, did not care, knowing she had probably returned the favor on his back.  
>Soon, her breath fell into an easily recognizable pattern, becoming more and more shallow, faster, faster. Her eyes closed, her back arched, her left hand twisted the fabric of the sheets while her right held painfully tight to his shoulder, nails breaking his skin. Watching her body writhe beneath him left him helpless against his own humanity.<p>

His eyes flashed fire. Suddenly, emotions too instinctual for thought chased vivid memories in Vincent's mind, running at dizzying speeds. Lucrecia. Darkness. Cloud. _Grey Haus._ Wine. Sunglasses. Bonfires. Dancing. Liquor. Fire breathing. Moonlight. Glowing bodies. The face of death. _"You're an amazing creature."_ Sephiroth. Forgotten City. _"You are one of my Turks."_ Hanging SOLDIERS. Burning trucks. Lavender eyes. Red eyes. Green eyes. Blinding white.

His nerves caught fire, euphoria sweeping over his entire body. Then, unbelievable weakness. He fought it off only long enough to feel Aria's grinning lips against his temple before slipping into a welcome unconsciousness.

Vincent remained in that dreamless darkness until a ray of sunlight landed directly on his eyelids. He sat up with a start, having lost track of time. The antique clock on the nightstand read 1:30. The room was clean, a set of black clothing folded neatly on top of the dresser. A deep chill went through him: he'd slept the entire night in nothing but the black boxer-briefs. Upon standing, he found a note set atop the black clothes. "Borrowed these from Cloud for you."

He lifted the stacked outfit and found his own shirt underneath, cut from the collar to the hem at the base. A different chill crossed him.


	14. Startling History

"He never used to sleep this late. He must have really had too much to drink," Tifa mused over a cup of coffee. Cid nodded in agreement and turned to look out the picture window. Aria was showing Cloud her motorcycle on the cleared-off path leading to the building. Snow covered the grass, rooftops, and alleys, giving the town a new, brighter glow. Cid watched the pair as Cloud asked several questions before Aria finally put her hand on her hip and asked him one in return. A barely discernible smile formed on Cloud's lips, and he nodded. At this, she nodded, and came back in through the front door.

"We're going for a ride."

"Are you serious? It's an icy deathtrap out there!" Tifa countered.

Aria buttoned her leather jacket and grabbed her own helmet from its place on top of the red cloak. Her fingers lingered for a brief second on the heavy fabric before she turned back to Tifa. "Exactly. Don't worry, I'll bring him back in one piece. And maybe he won't want a motorcycle anymore..." she replied, and stepped back outside.

Cid laughed upon watching her kick Cloud to the back of the bike with a single motion of her thumb. With a loud roar of the engine, they were off.

Moments later, the shower was running upstairs. Cid pointed to the ceiling. "Signs of life."

Yuffie stretched out on the couch in front of the fire. "How do you think that girl got to be an officer?"

The question caught Cid and Tifa off guard. Tifa shook her head. "Girl? I think she might be a little older than you, Miss."

Yuffie refused to accept the seniority. "Well, whatever. Still, though. I mean, Tseng has been there forever, right? And? He's still only a, what, squad leader? I don't know the title, but, you know. She's above him?"

"No," Tifa corrected. "She was above him."

"You know what I mean."

Cid cleared his throat. "That whole damn company don't make sense. I don't try to understand it. Don't matter now, really."

"Cloud seems to like her," Yuffie said casually.

"Well, I think we should put this place back together. I do have to open this evening for dinner," Tifa commanded, quickly changing the subject.

Just as the last chair slid into place, the front door swung open with a gentle knock.

"Reeve? Oh my! You're late!" Tifa exclaimed, trotting across the floor and greeting him with a quick hug.

"Hello," he said to the room. "I'm glad you're here. I wasn't sure I'd catch anyone," he started, slipping his long coat from his shoulders. He turned and stopped dead in his tracks at the coat rack. "Vincent...is here."

"Can you believe it? He came out of hiding!" Yuffie confirmed.

Reeve hung his jacket quickly and motioned for everyone to sit at a table in the center of the room. "Where is he?"

"Showering upstairs. You seem...concerned," Tifa noted.

"No shit. What's got you so spooked?" Cid chimed in.

"He brought someone with him?"

Tifa nodded. "Yes. She's out with Cloud right now. What's going on, Reeve?"

"He doesn't know what he's done," Reeve sighed to himself.

"Are they in trouble? Talk to us," Tifa said more sternly than before.

Reeve ran a hand through his hair quickly and sighed again. He nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, they're in trouble. Penelope Marx is a wanted woman."

Tifa looked quickly to Cid, who had caught Yuffie's attention. He shook his head just enough for the two women to see.

Reeve continued. "The Turks have...taken themselves off of the intel transfers. They are after her. And anyone who is protecting her."

Tifa shook her head, speechless. Cid took over with a blunt, "Why?"

"I don't know yet. There are a hundred reasons, I just don't know which they'll use."

"Well, we know she abandoned the company. That must be it," Tifa said.

"What else do you know about her?" Reeve asked.

"She was an officer. She walked away from the company. She's from Cosmo. She survived Mako poisoning," Cid answered. "Seems well-intentioned."

"Yes. She was an officer. She has a lot of history with Shinra. More than most of us."

"Why hadn't we ever heard of her?" Cid asked.

"Staying under the radar was her job. She couldn't publicize her work like they do now. Though I doubt she would have anyway. She is an extremely conflicted woman, and always has been. She was recruited from Cosmo when she was eighteen. Shinra simply took her from her family and tossed her in with several SOLDIER recruits for physical training."

"Oh god..." Tifa whispered, recalling the graphic tales of SOLDIER training she had been told. Young men came back to Nibelheim with mental scarring from the experience.

"Exactly," he continued cryptically. "And while in training, she made a close friend in SOLDIER."

A wave of silence flooded the table as the three processed this statement. Cid shook his head in genuine disbelief. "No. That can't be right. It doesn't add up, does it?"

"It does. He would have been thirty one this year. He was twenty-five when Nibelheim burned. She was twenty-three," Reeve answered to more silence.

"Then...why didn't she try to stop us?" Tifa asked.

Reeve shook his head. "I can't say for sure. It seemed as though she knew that what he was doing was wrong. She was in constant contact with me during that time, trying to find out what was going on with both sides. Somehow, though, I felt I could trust her. I saw the pain this conflict caused in her. But before everything went spinning out of control...when they were younger...I believe they would have killed for each other. That notion is still haunting... Anyway, this was around the time that Rufus took on the role of VP, and, as the only female Turk at the time, Marx was naturally appealing to him."

"Jealousy?" Tifa questioned, snorting a laugh at the former President's expense.

"Perhaps. He was young and brash. She showed no interest in him, which eventually got to him. He sent her out on a...well...a suicide mission."

"If he couldn't have her, no one could," Cid thought aloud.

Reeve nodded. "He sent her to Mount Nibel with five of the best SOLDIERS. As far as we've been able to put together, they were instructed to kill her and put the body into one of the Jenova tanks... No one knows how, but it seems she caught word of the plan, and when they attacked..."

...

"...there's the reactor, up ahead," Penelope pointed out to her troop of SOLDIERS. "I'll run in and check it out, scare off whatever animal has moved in, and we'll get the hell out of here. This place..." she said, scowling at the gloomy surroundings, "...gods, this place."

The men fell silent as they approached the reactor. She had taken the lead, and now faced the mechanical monstrosity, her back to her escorts. The silence weighed heavy on her. Things fell into place. She sighed, her shoulders dropping.

"I knew this didn't make any fucking sense," she said, mostly to herself. Her short hair fell over her left eye as she turned to face the five men.

"Okay. This is your job. I understand that. I don't hold it against you."

A younger man glanced nervously at the tallest, most built man in the group. "Klein?" he said, the question in his tone.

The man name Klein raised his helmet. "Marx, you're a hell of a Turk. I remember training with you. I have a lot of fucking respect for you, but..."

"Orders are orders. I know. I respect you, too. And I hope you understand that I'm not going to lie down for you."

"Of course. I just wish you'd have stayed away from him." Klein replied, lowering his helmet, and raising a thick sword. In return, Penelope pulled short twin blades from holsters inside her signature navy blue jacket.

"What do you want us to tell the General?" Klein asked.

She tightened her grip on her blades. A chilling smile crossed her lips. "I'll tell him myself."

At that, a blade spun through the air, planting in the stomach of a thin man who had flanked the team. He cried out, and fell to his knees, mortally wounded.

Klein and the younger SOLDIER charged her. The heavy sword sliced only through her jacket, as she spun away from them and toward her first victim. Her speed was frightening. In a single fluid motion she was at his side as he lay on the ground whimpering.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, but not to the man, as she twisted the blade and tore it out of his stomach. She quickly slid the blade through the fabric of his shirt to clean the blood away.

A nameless SOLDIER raised his pistol and fired at her, the bullet grazing her right leg. She sucked a deep breath between her teeth, hissing at the pain, then narrowed her eyes on her assailant. He stepped back, but not far enough. She lunged at him, then off to his right, her blades connecting with his side and dragging through. He had no time to cry out before she kicked his knees out from under him and sliced his neck with blinding speed. Her attention to this man left her vulnerable to the younger one who had earlier addressed Klein.

The butt of his gun connected with her ribs and sent her stumbling out from him. He fired haphazardly before she could retaliate and the bullet caught her in the right shoulder. A guttural moan escaped her throat as she fell to her knees. Thinking her helpless, the young man removed his helmet. His mistake was fatal.

Her left arm raised slightly above her head, and before he could react, the blade lodged deeply through his right eye.

"Gaia, Marx," Klein groaned, never taking his eyes off of her. "He was a kid."

"Not mine," she replied through clenched teeth.

"She's all yours, Burton," Klein told the other remaining SOLDIER.

Burton, helmet still protecting his face, stepped toward her, a sword similar to Klein's raised. She sighed and found her footing again, standing tall before him.

He charged her, swinging at her legs. She dashed away from his blade. He lunged again, and sliced through her right side.

"Fuck," she hissed. Her eyes locked on him again, and this time, she made the first move. She switched her remaining blade to her left hand and with it, speared his left thigh. He cried out, but kept on his guard. She was too fast for him, though, and easily kicked the sword from his hands with her next attack.

Klein rushed at her once again, and managed to grab her arms, twisting them behind her back. "Come on, Burton," he shouted.

"Am I fucking training exercise? The fuck!" she screamed in fury. The pain from the shot to her shoulder intensified tenfold as her right arm was twisted tightly behind her. "I swear to Shiva, I'll destroy you bastards for this. I'll tear your throats out, you sick motherfuckers," she swore, jerking violently in Klein's grasp. Burton stood, pulling the blade from his thigh. He stepped toward her, planning to use her own weapon against her.

Burton aimed carefully for her throat before slashing with the blade. As he did so, she dropped her legs out from under herself and threw Klein off balance. The motion jerked Klein into the slash. Burton swore, then fell into tears at the sight of blood pouring from Klein's throat.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry! Klein! I'm so sorry!" he cried. The younger man held onto Klein, as though he could save him, and pulled his helmet off. Meanwhile, Penelope crawled to the corpse of the youngest SOLDIER. She pried the gun from his fingers, and returned to the crying man.

She stood by his side as Klein choked on the ground. The leader was clearly fading in and out of consciousness.

"Do you have any family?" she asked Burton.

In between sobs, he answered, "Just my mother."

"What should I tell her?"

He took a deep breath and stopped crying, then answered with a single word. "Dignity."

She nodded solemnly and raised the gun. The shot rang loudly through the mountains.

Klein locked eyes with her, slipping away from life. She knelt next to him and cocked her head. "What do you want me to tell the General?"

He glared at her.

"Eh, I'll figure it out," she said coolly, before leaving him to die alone.

Rufus Shinra tossed in his bed, the victim of a quasi-nightmare. His king bed seemed too small for him to roll away from the shadows chasing his thoughts on this night. A sense of panic washed over him, jerking him awake. A storm raged outside his thirtieth-floor apartment. Knowing sleep would not come easily again, he stretched his arm over to the nightstand and turned on a tall lamp.  
>"Hello, Lover." A gun cocked.<br>He bolted up straight in the bed and, upon turning to face the window, stared down the barrel of a pistol to a bruised, bloodied, dripping wet, furious Turk.  
>"Marx. How..." he started, speechless and instantly trembling.<br>"How...did I get in? Master key. Did I get wet? Rain. Am I alive? Is that what you're looking for?"  
>"I don't know what...God, you're...bleeding everywhere." Blood had pooled on his white comforter, seeping through to his sheets.<br>"Yeah, asshole," she snarled, hitting his cheekbone with the barrel of her new gun, "I got shot, and sliced the fuck open by your lackeys."  
>"GODS," he shouted, holding the side of his face. "What do you want? What do you want me to do?"<br>"I want to kill you. I want to tear out your pretty blue eyes. I want you to drown in your own blood, just like Klein did. I want to make you suffer."  
>He sighed heavily in defeat. A bruise was already forming under his left eye. "I'm in love with you," he said quietly.<br>"The hell you are. You don't know anything about me. I'm a female that didn't swoon for you, and that pissed you off," she countered, lowering her gun.  
>"Your birthday is on the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. You were born in Midgar, but raised in Cosmo. You have a younger brother and sister. You were recruited at eighteen because of your bloodline. You're connected to the planet, it protects you. And no one knows how. That's why you're so fast, so resilient. Why your eyes...Probably why he keeps your company..."<br>"That's enough," she interrupted. "You are...you're fucked up. Why did you send me? What sense does that make? Why not him?"  
>"I didn't want to watch you grieve for him. And he's virtually untouchable, anyway. And you've been so cruel to me. You don't even acknowledge me when you walk in a room, and I'm your superior. You don't listen when I speak, you undermine every thought I present."<br>She scoffed at this explanation. "I've been doing this longer than you have."  
>"Bullshit. I was born into this company."<br>She raised the pistol again, pressing it against the underside of his chin. "Promote me."  
>"To an Officer? Fine."<br>"And how do you plan to explain losing five men at Nibel?" she asked, furthering her demands of him.  
>"Dragon. Rebels. I don't know."<br>"Dragon. Send a crew to recover the bodies. Closed casket ceremony. And if I was the only survivor..." she said, leading him.  
>"Yes. You'll be a Legend."<br>"Oh, thank you, Sir. I'm honored, Sir," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And I'll expect that on my next paycheck."  
>"Fine."<br>She stood, and focused a moment too long on the blood covering the white bedding. The room turned in her vision. Her hand found the corner of the dresser behind her and held tightly until balance returned.  
>"You have to get to a hospital," Rufus suggested. "You're losing too much blood." The fabric of her jacket sleeve had blackened with the wound.<br>"I'm taking a week off. And..." she carefully stepped around the bed to stand over him. "I did come here to kill you. So, really, this turned out in your favor."  
>His brow furrowed in confusion. Clarity struck in the form of a pistol whip to the cheekbone.<p>

The rain had dwindled to a mist as she slipped out of a fire exit and into an alley. She pulled out her phone while walking down the sidewalk and found she could not read the numbers. Hoping for the best, she pressed and held a blurry button. No response. A curse fell from her lips as she realized she would not reach a hospital before losing consciousness. Yet she kept on.  
>Moments later, under a yellow street lamp, she stopped, five blocks from Midgar General Hospital. A wave of panic rushed over her, then gave way to a gentle surrender. Leaning against the lamp post for support, she slid to sit on the sidewalk.<br>"I must admit, I rather like this look on you," a deep velvet voice said from behind.  
>She coughed out a small laugh. "The hell took you so long?"<br>"I was reading."  
>"You asshole."<br>She leaned into a warm, strong chest as two muscular arms raised her from the ground. Her eyes opened and focused just long enough to watch her bloody fingers slide through his silver strands before the world went black.

...

"...She was gone for a week, presumably living under his care. She was never checked into a hospital. Her relationship with Rufus was rather strained, as you can imagine, and there were many Turks who sided with him. So, when she deserted the company, there were several people more than willing to hunt her down, especially after everyone realized what he planned to do to the planet."  
>"Damn," Cid finally replied, processing the story.<br>"And he wasn't angry that she'd killed his men?" Tifa asked.  
>"Like everything to him, they seemed replaceable. No one I've talked to knows what their relationship was. Mutual respect, maybe. I mean, we didn't have the same ranks in the Turks, but, after the promotion, she was basically his equal."<br>"In a blue suit," Tifa finished, a distanced look in her eyes. She snapped back to Reeve. "So what's going on now? Does anyone know what she's been doing since she left the company?"  
>The response came from the stairway at the end of the room.<br>"No," Vincent said sternly, but quietly.  
>Everyone turned quickly to look at him. "How long have you been there?" Yuffie asked, startled by his sudden appearance.<br>"Good to see you, Reeve," he said.

Reeve tensed and straightened his back. "You, too. I wish it was under better circumstances. I've picked up a lot of talk of coming after her."

"Where is she?"

"Did you know her history?" Cid asked skeptically. He could see a faint line forming between Vincent's eyes.

"I knew enough. Where is she?" he repeated.

"She's out riding with Cloud. They're probably freezing. They should be back soon. He can't know," Tifa said, turning to Reeve. "I mean, I don't really know this woman, but if Cloud finds out she had any ties to..."

"He won't be involved. None of you will. We're leaving," Vincent replied, uncharacteristically cutting her off.

"Just as soon as she wanders back," Cid commented lightly.

"Jeez. Is she really worth going on the run for? I mean, come on..." Yuffie asked bluntly.

"You really think they'll kill her?" asked Cid.

"No, probably not," answered Reeve. "They'll experiment on her. Compare her DNA to Jenova. Maybe try to poison her again, wash her out, create a blank slate of a body. She's a valuable resource."

Vincent shifted his weight. The rest of the group looked at their hands in silence.

Finally, "Why?" Tifa pressed, frustrated.

"I don't know, for sure. It wasn't my field, but I think I once heard her twin sister, Aria, had some connection to the planet." Tifa's eyes flashed to Cid. "Pure Strand they called it, something referring to her DNA and the lifestream within her. Several studies were completed on her as a child. That's all I know. But if she had it, then there's a chance Penelope does, too."

"Well what happened to Aria?" Cid asked. Vincent remained silent, listening closely.

"She was killed in the Cosmo cave at age seven. It was generally agreed that it was a Gi Spector, but of course there were rumors... No body was ever found, and the cave was sealed soon after."

"How sad," Yuffie commented.

"Especially for Shinra, who had a lot of plans for that little girl. So, all they had left was her stubborn sister, Penelope, who exchanged her service in the Turks for exemption from all scientific pursuits. Going AWOL not only sets her up for punishment, but voids her exemption, if they get a hold of her. That, I can guarantee."

"Well, what kind of 'research' are we talkin' about, here?" Cid asked, lighting a cigarette. Tifa nodded, demanding an answer.

Reeve could not stop himself from glancing at Vincent, who met the look with an intense one of his own. "I don't know. I've told you everything I've heard. I don't have the same access I used to. I do know that the WRO cannot protect her. As far as we know, she's a volatile, extremely dangerous woman."

"Well, I don't know about all that," Yuffie said, deflating the claim.

Tifa sighed, not wanting the words to leave her mouth. "You saw what she was capable of doing...to Cloud, of all people."

Vincent looked down at his crossed arms. He watched light refract from his left wrist while wishing Aria would walk through the door, though only so that they could walk out of it again.


	15. Sudden Distance

Aria leaned against her bike while Cloud looked out at Rocket Town from the mountainous cliffs above Nibelheim.

"Alright, I'm impressed," he admitted. "I can't believe you didn't slip once coming up here."

"Well, half the ice is already melted under that sun," she replied, combing her fingers through her tousled hair.

"Don't be so modest."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm an amazing driver," she boasted. He grunted a laugh.

The pair watched the horizon quietly for a several minutes.

"Do you think about it often? That last...day?" she softly asked.

Without turning to face her, he nodded subtly. "All the time."

"What was it like? I mean, everyone must ask that. But we've both been in real combat. What was it really like?"

Still, he faced away. "It was...a myriad of feeling. Fear that I'd lose. Relief that I didn't. Regret that I had to do it at all. Anger for what...who I'd lost. Overwhelming joy and sorrow. And then it was over, and Tifa was pulling me out of there."

"You still looked up to him?"

"No. I mean, I suppose I admired what he'd been. But what he turned into...was horrible."

Cloud did not see, but Aria nodded.

"Here," she said. He turned to face her in time to catch the keys mid-air. "You can drive back. Don't kill us."

.

The air filled with the sound of a roaring engine, and Tifa exhaled heavily. Reeve turned to face the door. Soon after, it swung open, and Aria stepped through, removing sunglasses. She stopped dead in her tracks and Cloud bumped into her back.

"Tuesti. Good to see you," she said warily, looking from Cid to Tifa to Yuffie, and finally finding Vincent sitting the back by the fireplace. His eyes locked on hers, and she flinched at the intensity of his gaze.

"You, too, Marx. I hope all is well," Reeve answered.

She stepped further into the room, and Cloud slipped by her to greet Reeve. Her eyes flew again to each face in the room, all of them telling her that her secret was safe.

"How was your ride?" Tifa asked, a new, distanced tone in her voice.

Aria smiled. "Well, I enjoyed it. You should really ask him, though."

"It was nice. I have to get one of those," Cloud answered.

Tifa sighed. "You're encouraging him? How could you?"

Aria shrugged apologetically. The tension was thick in the room.

"Well, I've got to hit the road. I got too many people wantin' too many things from me to be hangin' around with this crew anymore," Cid said, standing and stretching his arms.

"Me, too. I have classes to teach tonight," Yuffie interjected quickly. "Tell Barret and Marlene 'bye' for us when they get back, Tifa."

"Of course. It was so good to see you again," Tifa answered, hugging them both. Cid walked over to Vincent's corner, and the quiet man stood to bid him farewell.

"Vince," Cid grumbled quietly, "don't get in over your head. Make sure you know exactly what you're dealin' with, here," he warned.

"Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary."

"I hope so," Cid replied, shaking his hand firmly.

Moments later, he and Yuffie were standing in front of Aria by the front door. Again, he spoke quietly, "Whatever you're into, here, don't you dare get him hurt. Poor bastard's been through enough bullshit for you Shinra women." Yuffie nodded emphatically.

Aria's eyes widened at the poorly veiled threat.

His tone softened. "That said, it was a pleasure meetin' ya."

"You, too," she answered, unsure of what to say. He shook her hand. Yuffie did not. And with that, they were gone.

"Wonder what that was about," Cloud thought aloud. "They left quickly."

"I should, too. I just wanted to drop off those invitations," Reeve said before grabbing his coat from the rack and removing two long envelopes from the interior pocket. "The first WRO Winter Ball. We need to do all the fundraising we can right now, and, like I said, no better way than a black tie affair where executives outspend one another to impress their hired dates."

Tifa laughed and opened her envelope, reading the invitation. "We'll be there," she said. "It's certainly an organization we believe in, after all."

"Well, enjoy the snow, I guess. I'll see you in a few weeks. Cloud, Vincent," Reeve said, making a quick departure.

"Will you flip the sign, Cloud? I'm going to start the grill," Tifa announced, slipping off to the kitchen. Cloud raised his eyebrows at Aria, turned the sign in the window to, "Open," and went upstairs.

Before she could ask about Reeve, Vincent was leading her outside. They did not stop until under the water tower, safely distanced from the bar.

"Who are you lying to?" Vincent asked abruptly. "Me or Shinra?"

"And good afternoon to you," she said, an edge to her voice that tested his nerves.

"Who are you, truly?"

She scoffed. "What are you talking about? You know who I am. What did he say? He's known to exaggerate."

"Maybe. But he's known. You're not. Did your parents alter the death records? Change your name? Or is Aria dead?" he pushed.

"What did he say?" she demanded. Sensing the stalemate, Vincent eyed her cautiously. She stared directly back. "Penelope is dead. My parents paid off the coroner to protect me."

"You didn't see a problem throwing around your real name here?"

She stepped backward and crossed her arms. "I suppose I assumed your friends were trustworthy. Am I wrong?"

"You were careless. You've forced a heavy secret upon them. How did she die?"

Aria shook her head, her lips tightly pressed into a straight line.

He did not ask again, but simply stood and waited. A chill ran through her, the air bitter cold without her jacket.

"The cave."

Vincent said nothing.

"She...wandered in. When they got to her, she was..." she could not finish the thought.

He did it for her. "Still alive."

Aria's eyes sparkled with the hint of tears, though they never fell. "Yes. They left her to the cave. Then again, I suppose I left them to the Turks," she said. The correlation stung his chest.

"Pure Strand? What did they do to you?"

She sank against a wooden pillar. "Blood tests, mostly. A few exhaustion exercises. Starved me once, to see how my body would compensate."

"And you parents allowed this?"

"For the right price," she replied, matter-of-factly.

Vincent passed no judgment on that statement. "Did they learn anything?"

She sighed. "I don't know what they learned, aside from the same line they fed us to keep us willing. 'All life is comprised of the millions of lives that came before it; the lifestream. But you seem to be a unique creation of the planet. There is no evidence of a connection to the lifestream in your DNA,'" she quoted in an overtly masculine voice. "The Cetra were deeply connected to the planet, as we know. The rest of the population is connected on an unintelligible, subconscious level. I'm a total outsider, I guess."

Both were silent for a time, processing her words.

Finally, he spoke. "Once you agreed to join Shinra, they stopped investigating?"

"I agreed to any training they could throw at me; any missions they wanted me on, I'd do. In exchange, my body, my blood, was my property alone. Of course, as I was promoted through the ranks, I gained back some of my standards."

"Do you have a plan?" he asked outright, shifting the conversation abruptly.

"Yep. Kill Shinra, watch the company crumble. Steal his money, give it to the WRO."

Vincent narrowed his eyes.

"No? We're still not doing that?"

"This isn't a joke, Aria. They're after you."

She sighed heavily. "Run, I guess. For now. Those words don't taste good," she noted, rubbing her eyes.

"You didn't study the art of evasion?"

She cocked her head in shock of his light tone.

.

Tifa hugged him tightly while Cloud stood back. "Please be careful," she said.

"Of course."

"Tifa, Gongaga is not exactly a dangerous destination," Cloud said, unaware of the knowledge she had gained about Vincent's companion.

"You, too," she said, hugging Aria. Her arms tightened painfully around Aria just before pulling away, another veiled threat.

"Stay in touch," Cloud told Vincent, shaking hands. "And thanks for the ride," he said, shaking Aria's hand warmly.

Vincent nodded and fastened his cloak tightly before leading Aria outside. Cloud watched out the window with a smirk as the two looked at each other over the bike. A quiet laugh escaped him as Vincent shook his head and Aria handed over her keys.

.

"Last cabin on the left. If you need anything, just call us here at the desk," an older, kind faced woman explained, handing Aria a key.

"This place is really coming along," she said to herself as they navigated the new inn. Vincent followed silently at a short distance, eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.

The key slid smoothly into the lock, and Aria opened the door to a small hut on the edge of the property. Inside was a king bed, mini kitchen, and dining area.  
>"No television. How...rustic," she commented, setting her helmet on the small dining table.<br>Vincent assumed the position he had always taken at inns: seated in the chair closest to the door. He stared at his own knees in thought. Despite an urge to break his concentration, Aria left him to his silence, and fell backward onto the bed, resting her arms behind her head.  
>"There are many things you haven't told me."<br>She raised her head at the utterance. "True. I could say the same of you, though. Everyone has history." Her head fell back again.  
>His eyes drifted casually to her reclined form. Three specific marks itched on his shoulder.<br>"Your rank. How did you become a Legend?" he asked.  
>"Tell me what you've heard. I'll confirm or deny," she replied, toying with his questions.<br>"You killed five SOLDIERS. You threatened the Vice President."  
>Silence and a deep breath followed. "True."<br>"Your relationship with Rufus."  
>"False."<br>"I hadn't said anything."  
>"There's nothing to say," she retorted, shutting down the topic.<p>

Silence followed. Then, "Why did he try to kill you?" he persisted, striking a nerve.

She sat up straight and faced Vincent directly. Her gaze was tinted with residual anger.  
>"He was a helpless child, throwing a tantrum. But something tells me you already know the story. Why does this matter?"<br>"I see no fault in trying to understand you. I've come this far for you," he said gruffly, "I should know what kind of person I'm dealing with."  
>The air between them was tense as she resisted his questions and his frustration grew.<br>"What happens when you don't like my answers?"  
>"My opinions do not matter. I have to know why Shinra is so intent on getting you back."<br>"I'm going for a walk," she announced, ignoring all previous conversation. He stood, and followed her. She was not surprised.


	16. The Weight of Clarity

Aria's wandering led them toward the small cemetery at the edge of the town. Along the way, she picked small flowers from the side of the road.

"Were you recruited or did you join on your own accord?" she asked casually.

From his place three steps behind her, he replied, "I signed myself. Did you work with Rufus?"

She snickered. "My first year as a Turk was spent with him. He was...seventeen? I was twenty...and on bodyguard duty. We got along pretty well, then I was pulled to field work and Reno came in to replace me. Rufus became VP within a month or so, so I ended up getting my orders from him, anyway. So, back then, yes, we worked together quite a bit. Did you know Lucrecia before you were sent to Nibelheim?"

"No. We met there," was his brief response.

"So you have a habit of taking to women quickly?" she asked, snickering at her own joke. He did not laugh. She shrugged and continued picking brightly colored flowers.

"Misplaced loyalty," he finally said.

"Now that's an interesting response," she started, standing up straight for a moment. "Loyalty to the Shinra, the rebellion, or troublesome women?"

"I don't know yet," he answered truthfully.

She nodded, accepting the answer, then returned to following the path and collecting weeds and flowers. He could not help but watch her, transfixed in the innocence of the gesture performed by scarred, tattooed arms.

"When did you end contact with your family?" he continued, sensing safety in her distracted state.

"I was twenty-two. I had been promoted to an Officer, and I had an older partner."

"She tried to leave..." Vincent recalled from their first night together.

"Yes. She tried to return to her family in Kalm, but..." she drifted off, shrugging. He knew she was thinking of the photographs she'd shown him only two days earlier. "So, I visited Cosmo one last time, told them to leave. It was like killing them myself. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. And yet..." she paused, staring off into a memory, "...they seemed almost relieved...to be free of me, free of worrying about me." She turned her attention back to her bouquet. "Oh well. What's it matter now?"

They came to the gate of the cemetery and Aria stepped in, looking at the headstones. "Guenevere Lock, loving mother, sister, and wife," she read aloud, walking along the front line of headstones. "How did you convince Rufus to let us go?"

At first, Vincent did not answer.

"I've given it some thought, and I've narrowed it down to two choices. One, you paid him off. But I have no evidence of you being a rich man. Or two," she turned to look at him. "You threatened him. Or someone close to him," she said, arching an eyebrow. His eyes raised to meet hers.

"Reno?"

He nodded once.

"I knew it. I can't believe it worked, though."

"It nearly didn't. It was taken too far," he responded in an attempt to close the subject.

"What, did you hit him?"

No response.

"Shoot him? Holy shit, Vincent!" she exclaimed, laughing. "I assume he's okay," she finally said.

He nodded again.  
>"Maybe that will knock him down a few pegs," she mused. "Johnny Russo, beloved brother and son..."<br>"Naturally, the deal was temporary."  
>"Is that what he said?" she asked, slowing moving through the headstones.<br>"He didn't have to. Maybe he'll leave Cloud and the others alone, but it was clear he wasn't giving up on you. Are you devising a plan?"  
>"Isabel Novak, a loving sister, friend, and sage. So boring..." she said, avoiding the question.<br>He leaned against a tall tree, letting her wander, watching her collect the thoughts speechlessly.  
>"Pete Novak, beloved brother and son. Nora Welsh, gone but not forgotten. James Klein, too well loved to ever be forgotten." She stopped short in front of a headstone at the back of the small cemetery and stared at it for long moment. Curiosity crept into Vincent, and he walked over to see her find. The stone appeared older than most, darkened by weather and age, the inscription faded, but still barely legible. It read, "Wolf Nix. Lived fearlessly." Unlike the rest, there was no plastic vase for flowers at this grave.<br>Aria knelt and brushed the dirt and leaves away from the stone. Her left hand rested on top of the stone while her right placed the bouquet against it on the ground. "Lived fearlessly," she whispered, patting the stone and nodding. She stood quickly and faced him. "That's my plan. I don't want to do this. I don't want to keep running from them, moving from inn to inn, staying with strangers, putting lives in danger. It's not worth it. That's not a life. I want to walk around outside without looking over my shoulder. I want a vacation. I want to the feel the sun on my skin, swim in the ocean, sleep in. I want to base jump from the cliffs of Cosmo and lie on the beach of Costa del Sol. And if I get caught, I get caught. At least I can enjoy myself beforehand."  
>"You're describing a luxurious suicide."<br>She skipped over the comment. "You don't have to come. You don't have to do this, either. You don't owe me anything. I saw how they treated you in Nibelheim, Vincent. They want you back, and away from me. And I understand it completely. As long as you're with me, your future is.." she trailed off, shaking her head, breaking eye contact to look at the ground, "...unfavorable. And who knows, maybe they'll have a change of heart and let me live. Maybe they'll offer me a contract with the WRO."  
>A dull, familiar ache rose in Vincent's chest as she carefully talked around her own death. He knew there was little hope of reasoning with her, so he remained silent, allowing her to work through her increasingly frantic thoughts. As he watched her, he noticed that her eyes had darkened to a medium shade of teal.<br>The sun had fallen behind dark clouds, casting a shadow over a majority of the small town. A strong wind blew through the cemetery, picking up leaves, scattering the bouquet all over the designated grave, blowing through long strands of brown and black hair.

She smiled softly. "I think that's Wolf telling me to go."

Thunder crashed in the sky, causing her to jump with surprise. Rain suddenly poured from the dark clouds.

"In the morning," she corrected.

Vincent wrapped his cloak around her shoulders and walked alongside her back to their cabin, fighting the urge to palm his chest.

A modest dinner was delivered to the door an hour after their return. They did not speak, choosing instead to sit coldly across from each other at the small wooden table by the door. Aria took several bites of her cold pasta before noticing that Vincent was not eating. She took a long drink from a plastic water bottle, taking the opportunity to look him over.

His eyes were fixed on the edge of the table as though in deep concentration. He remained remarkably still. She could not take it.

"What will you do?" she asked, trying to maintain a casual voice.

He simply shook his head. Stifling silence filled the room again. Aria knew not of the images swarming his consciousness. His memory replayed for him his quiet acceptance of Lucrecia's decisions, his quiet acceptance of Hojo's experiments, his quiet acceptance of Cloud's invitation a year ago, of pursuing Sephiroth, of Aria's Harvest invitation, of her invitation to the bedroom the night before. He saw his quiet acceptance of her dark history, and now, of her choice to stop fighting for her life.

Familiar guilt overcame him, the ache in his chest intensified. Then, anger. His eyes dimly glowed red. "Tell me."

Aria furrowed her brow. "About?"

"Him."

She threw her head back to stare exasperatedly at the ceiling. "I _have _told you..."

"No. Not Shinra," he interrupted. She remained still, head back. His eyes locked on her. "Sephiroth."

A long sigh escaped her as her head fell further back in vexation. She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes, then ran her fingers through her hair. When she raised her head to meet his gaze, her eyes glowed blue, as though ignited by the name. He straightened his back.

"I was thrown in with SOLDIER candidates for training. He led one of my assessment missions. The rest of my troop dropped out midway through the mission, so he trained me one on one for the remainder. I killed a Zolom with his guidance," she explained, a glimpse of nostalgia sparkling in her eyes. The achievement was impressive, yet discomfort settled over Vincent at the look.

"After that mission, I was officially brought into the Turks, at his recommendation. He visited me. Took a special interest, I guess. It started as a mentor/student relationship. He was my connection to SOLDIER when I needed one, I was his with the Turks and Shinra. We talked after hours, and eventually became, I don't know...friends?" The word did not seem to fit any aspect of the man.

Vincent leaned against his chair back expectantly.

"And... we talked a lot. About my family, his views of Shinra, the planet, SOLDIER, everything. He was incredibly deep. There were many times I couldn't follow his thoughts. After we'd known one another for about a year, he told me he felt connected to me somehow, like he could sense my...essence. I was pulled to field duty, and our relationship developed into something...completely unlike anything I'd felt before."

…

"I feel like you always forget how damn windy it is up here," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. He chuckled quietly in response, brushing a silver strand from his face.

"No, I just don't care. Your skin is too thin." He set two glasses and an emerald green bottle on the familiar iron table. The stars shone faintly, their light diffused by that of the city beneath them. Cars honked below, their drivers rushing to get home at the end of the work week.

"How's it going in Junon?" she asked, leaning over the two-foot-wide half-wall to watch the city below.

"It's dry. Paperwork, talking to recruits. I fight the urge to walk away every day. I hate the city." She turned at the sound of the cork popping from the bottle.

"So you come back to this place on your free time?" she asked, walking over to the table and taking one of the thin glasses. "To?" she asked for the toast, raising her glass.

"To worthwhile company," he finished. They drank.

An hour later, the bottle neared empty. She lay stretched on the half-wall, a dangerous game she had perfected, while he sat in an iron chair near the table.

"It's not entitlement. I don't feel that way, at all. But there is an undeniable distinction in ability. They simply cannot keep up. I do more for that military than any five SOLDIERs do combined."

"So you deserve the title and ten times the pay, even though some of them have been in for fifteen years. Okay, General, I get it," she said with slurred sarcasm.

"Wait, Marx. You'll be an Officer someday, and you'll feel the same. You'll look at those beneath you and question how they ever survived in the world long enough to see the inside of this building. You'll wonder what stops you from just killing them to rid yourself of the torment of handling them."

"That seems...harsh? Yes," she responded, shocked into laughter by his statement, "I don't believe I'd like working under you at all!"

"You'll wonder why you were chosen to bear the weight of carrying those men through battle, and question the sense of relief when a few of them fall."

At this, she rose to a seated position. "You really feel that way?"

"Sometimes...I simply cannot help it," he answered distantly. His pale green eyes stared off into unspoken thoughts.

"Well," she said, suddenly upbeat, intentionally breaking his concentration, "I get that, too. You're just not like them, and, whether we like it or not," she spoke while rising to her feet on the wall, "such are the consequences for being...different, special." With practiced grace, she rose her glass to her lips and emptied it. "Surely, you're not alone. There must be someone out there as..._special_ as you." As she spoke, she paced the wall, unconcerned with a potential 70-story fall. He watched her, signature smirk on his lips.

"Of course," he replied. "There has to be someone out there who makes a habit of taunting Death. Someone who can keep up with me out in the field. Someone who can down half a bottle of wine and still walk on a stone wall 700 feet in the air."

The comment drew her attention from her footing to his face. They locked eyes in a loaded glance just before she lost her balance. As though instinctively, she leaned all of her weight in toward the rooftop, and fell onto her back. As the adrenaline faded, she opened her eyes and found him towering over her, a gloved hand extended.

"Thank god it's not me," she said, taking his hand, pulling herself up. "Can you imagine the pressure?"

She brushed off her starched blue sleeves as he turned his face toward the city.

"No, I can't."

…

Two lines formed at the inner corners of Vincent's eyebrows. His jaw clenched. The room grew cold as she went on.

"It wasn't romantic, really. It was more of a...co-dependence. He needed me to listen to him, to have some emotional connection. He had no family, and people were too afraid of him to get close."

"Why weren't you?" Vincent asked.

"Because he was just a man."

At this, Vincent cocked his head skeptically.

"He was!" she protested. "He was a victim, and nobody realized that. He never asked for the hand he was dealt, but he made the most of it."

A dull wave of dread washed over him. Connections came to light.

"Shinra, the Turks. They're not after you for defecting."

"Should we talk about last night?" she suddenly asked in a frantic attempt to distract him.

"He was criminally insane, Aria," Vincent persisted.

"I certainly don't regret it, I just want to make sure we're on the same page..." Her hand reflexively reached up to her hair.

"Had he succeeded, had Jenova prevailed...everything would have been lost."

"It was probably more physical than anything, and maybe we shouldn't read too much into it." She writhed, twisting shoulders and shaking her head.

"Everyone on the planet, young, old, innocent and otherwise...would have been killed. He would have killed you, too."

She abruptly stood, violently kicking the chair out from under her. It crashed into the wall. "You didn't know him!" she yelled, her voice suddenly hoarse.

"You helped him." He remained seated, unresponsive.

"It's over," was her raspy response. "It's been over for a long time. I am not that woman anymore."

"Why did you kill those people, Aria? Why were you so bent on stopping Shinra?"

His calm finally unraveled her defenses. Her legs buckled under her as her arms raised to cover her ears like a frightened child. As she fell to her knees, he stood and stepped toward her. The movement only caused her to double over on herself, curling up, covering her face. Her crumpled form was still for an unnervingly long moment before a powerful gasp rattled her shoulders.  
>He had not been prepared for this reaction, and knew of no appropriate response. So, he stood by, watching.<br>Aria cried hard, yet the only sounds in the room were her small gasps for air. Finally, her breathing regulated. Softly, almost in a whisper, she answered. "A helpless child, throwing a tantrum."  
>Her pained honesty moved Vincent to kneel and place a cool hand upon her back.<br>She continued, "Shinra turned him into that monster. I couldn't save him from losing his sanity and I couldn't stop him once he had. So I convinced myself that he was justified in taking down Shinra, and I helped him where I could. I gave him access to the President's office, handed over a company car... They found out what I'd done..."  
>"So you ran."<br>She unfurled her spine and sat up, eyes bloodshot, cheeks tearstained. "I meant everything I said. I knew what they were doing to the planet, and I hated it."  
>"They tortured you, poisoned you...so you would forget about him, forget your cause."<br>"Maybe. Probably."  
>"And you killed those men...to avenge him, or yourself?"<br>Her eyes locked on his own. "Everyone," she answered gravely. "Every life that was ever ruined by that company. Mine, his, Aeris', Cid's, Cloud's. It was for all the young men that underwent tortuous training and horrific warfare for the sake of the company, every half-dead child that was living in the slums, Lucrecia." Vincent furrowed his brow at the name. "You." He winced.  
>"We're back to where we started."<br>Aria wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Now I live without purpose. I have nothing left to fight for. Taking down Shinra is impossible, and pointless now, anyway. We're not back to where we started, at all. Spending these few short days with you, your friends, the serenity and joy you all shared...I want to find that for myself. I know what's coming for me, and I'm ready to accept it if it means I can find a peace of my own for a single, solitary moment. And I know now that I won't be able to do that with you. I can't let you place yourself between me and them."  
>"What do you want me to do?" he asked quietly, fighting to breathe steadily.<br>Slowly, cautiously, she grabbed the edge of the table and stood. "Stay with me tonight. In the morning, let me go."

* * *

><p>AN: Another massive thank-you to all who have come this far! I live for your comments- I've never been so thrilled to open my email. I love that you are willing to share with me your experiences of this story.


	17. Escapism

As the hours passed, Vincent realized how much easier it all may have been had he simply walked out when she asked him to stay. What had followed was torturous.  
>They lay in the bed, dressed down to underwear, each relishing the feeling of skin on skin. He had insisted that a dim light be left on, though she had requested darkness. Through the first few hours, as the sun set and the sky blackened, she had cried twice more, at first silently, until he noticed, then more freely. He felt each tear drop onto his chest as though they were bullets. While she cried, he did not speak, but instead closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair while she clung to him. He did not need to ask what caused her sorrow. She had enough cause.<br>Her sadness faded into exhaustion, and for an hour, they watched each other's faces, him intently focused on every curve and angle, her through heavy eyelids. Soon, she slipped away into sleep. He watched her still, a burning knot in his stomach. He tried to fight away the guilt of letting her go, but the thoughts intensified as time went on, supported by his memory of so similarly letting go of Lucrecia. He formed a mantra, convincing himself that they are not the same, that Aria could survive on her own. Doubt persisted. The knot burned.  
>She had asked too much of him. Through that long, stormy night emerged a single thought in consuming clarity. If he could not walk beside her, he would walk behind. Protecting her could be difficult, life-threatening. She would not accept the help and she would not be as gentle in pushing him away. To be so close and unable to talk to her, touch her, enjoy her experiences with her would be painful. But letting her go alone would be lethal for the both of them.<br>Satisfied with his choice, he closed his eyes with no intention to sleep. Only moments later, Aria began stirring, in the process of waking. He felt her eyes on him for several minutes in his facade of sleep. Soon, she lightly slipped away from him and out of the bed. He listened to her dress, zipping and buttoning as quietly as possible. Once fully dressed, she stopped to look carefully at his guns on the dining table. After a quick glance at his closed eyes, she ran her fingers along the glassy smooth barrel of his Outsider pistol. Across from it lay the Buntline, shimmering gold in the dim light. Carefully, she picked it up, surprised by its weight. Her fingers roamed the smooth wooden grip. As she touched it, she sighed deeply, as though she were touching him for the last time.  
>Once ready to leave, she leaned carefully over him and watched his face once more. He fought the urge to look at her this close one more time, and kept up the act. Her lips met his temple in a ghostly gentle kiss.<br>"To survival," she whispered, before sneaking away.  
>The door closed softly behind her, and she walked her bike to the edge of town before starting the engine. As she sped off in a northwestern direction, she did not see Vincent watching her from the top of the destroyed reactor. The height of the structure allowed him to confirm his suspicion. She was going home.<p>

Once in Cosmo, Vincent had no trouble finding Aria. She roamed the town freely, gathering an array of items from various shops while an older man tuned up her bike at the far edge of town. He stuck to the few available shadows, only checking her whereabouts a few times throughout the day. Her activity clearly pointed to an impending departure. As he sat in a dark corner of a outside cafe, he caught the conversation of two women sitting near him.  
>"Did you hear that that Marx woman is back?" one asked.<br>"Yeah, I did. She has a lot of nerve coming around here. I knew her parents years ago, you know, before they moved. They were the kindest people... and she went and got them killed."  
>"Oh my god! What happened?"<br>"Oh, no one seems to have the whole story, but she pissed off the wrong people in Midgar. Or, you know, whatever is left of it. I heard they were killed as a warning to her. That whole Shinra company is just...just horrible."  
>"Wow. Well, I couldn't agree more. But then again, I heard that whoever is running it now is changing the face of the whole corporation. They're rebuilding for the displaced people of Midgar, you know. And I heard that they're even supporting the growth of the WRO."<br>"Sure. I'll believe that when I see it. I just hope she gets the hell out of here before making a mess out of this place, too."  
>Vincent tuned the women out and rested his head against the brick wall behind him.<p>

"Alright, Ferd, you told me three hours. I hope I won't be disappointed," Aria said, approaching the garage at the back of the town.  
>"You're absolutely right, Miss, I did. And I believe you'll be very satisfied. I'll just pull her around..." the older man said before disappearing behind the garage to retrieve the vehicle.<br>While he was gone, Aria noticed a brand new stealth cycle sitting inside the garage. Its narrow frame was painted completely black. The muffler had been designed to eliminate most of its sound.  
>"Here you are, Miss. If you step inside, we can get you all paid up and on your way..." the mechanic announced, pushing her shining bike into the garage. "If you don't mind me asking, why the body change? The green was so...unique! Now it looks like so many others with the silver and black."<br>Her eyes remained on the newer black bike. "That's the idea, unfortunately. Who is this beauty waiting for?" she asked, lightly running her fingers along frame.  
>"Oh, that's been here for sale since it came out last year. It's really an amazing vehicle, you can hardly hear it on the road, and it's impossible to see at night if the headlight is off. And the speed, you wouldn't believe. Too expensive, though. Nobody wanted it until just today. A man came by a few hours ago, paid cash, and asked me to keep it here for a while. I got the impression he's on some shady business, if you know what I mean."<br>She laughed and nodded. "I bet. A man with too much money always is..."

An hour later, just as the sun had begun to descend, Vincent heard an engine start from the edge of town and sat up straight in his seat at the cafe. As suspected, this had been a brief stop. Aria, on her newly renovated bike, took off for the northeast. He leisurely strode over to the garage, jingling a silver key in his hand.  
>Costa del Sol buzzed with activity. As the winter season had overtaken much of the northern hemisphere, the perpetually warm beach town was a popular destination. After renting a room at the massive inn, Aria headed for the bar to eat.<br>She sat alone, finished a seafood entree, and sipped a cocktail from a coconut. It did not take long for her to be noticed by a group of young men who wore nothing but swimming trunks. A tall blond man slid into the chair across from her and smiled broadly.  
>"Is this seat taken?" he asked while his three friends watched on.<br>She smiled politely back, already entertained.  
>"Are you here alone?" the confident man asked.<br>She looked around the empty table with only her eyes.  
>"Well, we're heading to a bonfire at the far end of the beach tonight. Down by the cliffs, you know. You should join us."<br>Four young women emerged from the restroom by the tiki style bar, all laughing. Aria's suitor saw the women and quickly stood. "Really, you'd enjoy it. I hope I see you there later," he said before returning to his friends. The women each paired up with one of the men, a particularly made-up redhead grabbing the blond man's arm. The redhead looked back over her shoulder and scowled at Aria, which only made her laugh to herself.  
>She left her table and exited the bar, heading for a clothing shop. The sun set completely, the darkness bringing in a quiet visitor, before she finally emerged with two full bags and returned to her room to change.<p>

Not long after, she stepped back onto the sandy brick streets wearing a white bikini underneath a loose, sheer white cover-up and low-rise white cotton pants. Her hair blew behind her in the light sea breeze as she walked the busy streets, purchasing another coconut cocktail at a small street kiosk.  
>Eventually, she wandered down to the beach, as far from the aforementioned bonfire as possible. She removed her thin sandals and let the cool sand slip between her toes, a contented sigh escaping her as she walked. Two lovers kissed on a beach towel, oblivious to the rest of the world. She smiled as she passed, and found her own place along the quiet end of beach. She sat at the edge of the waterline, the tide only occasionally reaching her outstretched feet, and looked into the sky.<p>

As she watched the stars, the bold man she had met earlier watched her from the shadows of a small cliff on the beach. A friend stood next to him, talking him up.

"Just like I said, she's here by herself. Nobody will see you. The closest people here are those two, and they're too busy _gettin'_ busy to care."

Both men took long swigs from clear bottles of liquor. The blond man nodded, pumped up with adrenaline and alcohol.

"You saw how she blew me off that like. Made me look like a fuckin' idiot. Didn't even say anything, and then fuckin' laughed at me."

"Ain't nobody gonna care about a tourist, man. We're just gonna scare 'er. Just sneak out there, grab her, and bring her back here. I'll be here to help," his friend said.

They nodded to each other, and the blond stood. He began creeping quietly out onto the beach, and glanced back at his friend. He waved him on. Aria leaned back on her arms and closed her eyes. The blond man took five more steps, and looked back once more.

His friend was gone.

He stood up straight to look around the rocks where his partner had stood, and saw nothing. Under his breath, he swore, and started back toward the rocks, unable to go through with his attack alone.

"Fancy seeing you here," a soft male voice said from behind. The blond looked back toward Aria and sighed in relief, glad to have changed his mind, for the man was addressing her.

"Cloud?" she replied with surprise. She sat up straight and followed his line of sight to a point behind her. "What are you looking at?"

"I thought I saw someone when I walked up, but I guess not."

"Oh. Well, that's why I'm all the way down here," she said, looking back to Cloud. "Fewer college kids, more quiet."

What they did not see was the gun being pointed at the two young men from far beyond those rocks. They did not see the deep scratches left on their bare arms from a golden claw. They did not see them flee in fear at the first chance they were offered. Then, they did not see the red eyes watching them.


	18. A Drink, A Deal

"Mind if I join you for a minute?" Cloud asked, sitting on the sand next to Aria. She smiled and shook her head, looking back to the stars.

"Where is Vincent?" he asked. "I thought you were traveling together."

"We...were," she started. "But really, Costa del Sol is not his...element. And I just couldn't resist spending some time on the beach."

"I can respect that. When are you meeting up again?" he asked, unlacing his boots. She watched with a small smile and did not answer. He stopped and looked back to her face. "I'm sorry, did I... I suppose I thought you were..."

"We were both in times of mutual need," she answered, looking out to the sea.

"Oh," was his blunt reply. He removed his shoes, then took off his socks, rolling them into the black boots. His feet slid into the sand and he sighed.

"So what are you doing all the way out here?" she asked.

"Delivery, actually."

"On that deathtrap bike of yours? You're insane," she joked.

"Hey, we didn't all get handed Shinra vehicles, Turk," he lightly replied. She balked, slapping his arm.

"Hey, buddy, that bike was mine, fair and square. Shinra had nothing to do with it!"

The two talked for the next thirty minutes, recalling humorous events of the impromptu party at Tifa's bar, then transitioning into the only other thing they had in common: a discussion of Shinra Inc.

"It doesn't seem likely that they should turn around so quickly, especially with the profits those reactors were bringing in. But then, Edge is really coming along, the reactors are being shut down. Rufus must really be gone," Cloud mused, then chuckled to himself. "I never thought I'd see the day that Shinra Inc went...green."

"Tell me about it," Aria agreed quietly. "I guess there is only so much harm one can do before it all catches up."

"I couldn't agree more. That's why I'm starting this delivery service. I just want to drive around and see the world without worrying about who is after me or who I should be hunting down. I'm not putting any more lives in danger for anything. I'm going to live for myself, and leave everyone else out of it."

Aria smiled and nodded, turning to look at Cloud. "That sounds...familiar. I believe I just talked myself into the same thing two days ago."

"We have more in common than it seems," he suggested. "Hey, your eyes. The Mako is fading. They're blue."

"Good. People will stop staring."

He glanced over at her and noted the tattoos on the backs of her arms, the phoenix spanning her back, and the metal shoulder that was visible through her sheer swimsuit cover. "Yeah," he said, drawing out the word sarcastically. She rolled her eyes lightheartedly.

"Hey, have you been to The Tidal?" he asked.

"The what?"

"The bar on the far side of the beach. It's open all night, they have live music. Mostly locals go there. Which means no college kids. Of course, you have to walk through the center of the perpetual beach party to get there."

She laughed at his tone. "Are you asking me out for a drink?"

"No. We're already out. And I'm already going, so, you can come or you can not."

Aria was unsure of what had made Cloud so bold, but his phrasing made her laugh, so she agreed. They stood, brushed the sand from their clothes, and headed down the beach toward the bonfire and music. Neither addressed the fact that she was slightly taller.

Meanwhile, red eyes looked toward the sea, the mind behind them accepting the feeling of being unneeded.

.

Jealousy was not the right word, Vincent decided as he walked back to the resort. Fear, perhaps, for the both of his friends. Aria, after all, had sided with Sephiroth. Cloud had killed him. Aria had created the public execution that nearly killed Tifa. Cloud had led an attack against Shinra that left many of her friends in SOLDIER dead. Should the two ever put these facts together, the consequences could be deadly, he thought.

And yet, they got along so naturally. Cloud interacted with her in a way that Vincent had never seen him do with any other stranger. It took weeks for Cloud to even use sarcasm with Vincent, let alone crack an actual joke.

It did not matter. Aria would undoubtedly leave him by the wayside, too, in her quest to find inner peace. Cloud did not fit into her plan anymore than he did. This mantra comforted him as he drifted into a light sleep once back in his small room. He knew it was for the best that he did not hear the coming conversation between the two new friends.

.

"How do you go over with women?" Cloud asked Aria as a waitress set two red glasses down on the small table between them.

"Excuse me?" she asked, genuinely surprised by his question.

"I mean, do women like you? Or did you always have men around you?"

Aria wrinkled her nose at the question and smiled a twisted smile. "What the hell? Okay...I guess," she said, reflecting over her time in the Turks, "I always had more male friends. Women are nice enough to me, but no, they don't tend to...stick."

"It's because you're so masculine," he explained, taking a long drink.

"Go fuck yourself," she replied without missing a beat. He laughed, and struggled to keep the drink in his mouth. His response made her smile. Finally, he swallowed and shook his head.

"Gods, not in a bad way. I mean, okay, look at you."

She furrowed her brow and looked down at herself. "White isn't feminine?"

"No, that's not what I mean. You're built. You're tattooed. You fought me in a bar...for fun. You undoubtedly clawed your way to the top of Shinra, and that, with the rest, is intimidating. I mean, I guess. For women."

She nodded and gave a serious expression. "But not to you, of course," she said, the words dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, that goes without saying."

Aria smiled and shook her head dismissively. "What brought this on?"

His smile faded; he took another long drink. Finally, "It's nothing, really. Just Tifa, being Tifa."

"She doesn't like me," Aria said factually, gliding her fingertip around the edge of her glass.

"In short. After you left she was a nervous wreck. Didn't want you hanging around Vincent. Or anyone, really."

"Oh, dear."

"Yeah. I don't know what got into her. So, don't tell her I ran into you," he joked.

She pantomimed zipping her lips. "Don't worry. It's awfully late, isn't it? Shouldn't you be getting back home?"

His eyes were suddenly distant as he barely shook his head. "No. I'll go back tomorrow. Maybe the day after."

"Hey," she quickly interjected, snapping her fingers in his face, "don't go there. Don't wander off like that. Wherever you're going, there's nothing there for you," she said, as if she had seen him drift away a thousand times.

His eyes returned to hers, shocked. "Whoa."

"I'm serious. That shit doesn't help anybody. All that matters is right here and now. _This_," she said, pointing down at the invisible moment, "is all you can control anymore."

He grinned. "Such a philosopher."

She smiled wryly. "I worked for Shinra, too. Maybe I haven't been through what you guys went through, but...I've spent plenty of time staring off into space, wondering what the hell went wrong. We'll never know. It doesn't matter. What matters is stepping beyond all that, and catching up with the present. That, after all, is why I'm here."

"You plan to find 'the present' in a tourist trap beach town?" Cloud asked dryly.

"Who knows? Maybe I'll find myself. Maybe the real me has a nice tan and sand in her shoes. Maybe not. Maybe I'll have to go somewhere else to find myself. That's okay, too."

He chuckled, but his response came out more seriously than anticipated. "Take me with you."

Aria deflected it with apparent ease. She shook her head slowly and said, "I'm sorry. I'm not taking any passengers."

As she spoke, her eyes wandered into the bar, thoughtlessly scanning faces and bodies. Her breath stopped at the sight of a tall, bald man wearing dark sunglasses. He leaned coolly against the bar.

"Fair enough. Here and now, huh? I guess I can try that," he agreed, and finished his drink. "You know, I can think of someone else who could use that advice," he suggested insinuatingly.

"Of course you can. Tell him for me," she countered quickly, standing up and pulling a few bills from her pocket. Cloud's brow furrowed in confusion.

"What just happened? Where are you going?" he asked, standing with her.

"I am suddenly so tired. I think I need to go get some sleep," she answered with hushed panic.

Cloud spun around to follow her gaze. "Who is here? Is someone following you?"

When he turned back to face Aria, she was gone.

.

He was pulled from his colorless thoughts by the sound an engine roaring to life below his window. The clock claimed it was past midnight. Either she was on to him, or she was on to someone else. It did not matter.

Vincent folded his cloak tightly and shoved it into the black backpack he had acquired for traveling. After securing his guns, he sped down to parking lot in the shadows, and watched the silver bike speed away. The moon was bright, illuminating the tracks left in the sand and dirt outside town. He would have no trouble finding her. He already had a destination in mind.

The crowds of people in the Costa del Sol streets seemed to part for him as he slipped through, watching for familiar faces. He reached the edge of the city and The Tidal bar before he finally felt eyes on him.

"Didn't take you for the beach type."

Vincent turned on his heels and met Reno's gaze. He raised an eyebrow.

"Where is she?" the Turk asked bluntly. "Or let me guess, you just don't know. Gosh, she just got away from you, right? She could be anywhere by now," he answered his own question with sarcasm.

"Could not have said it better," Vincent answered dryly.

"That's bullshit."

Beach-goers dissipated from the bar.

"Rude saw her. Talking to Cloud, of all people. Now, that must really grind your gears. That blond punk gettin' in on your action," Reno taunted.

Vincent was unfazed, and stared blankly. "I don't know where she is."

"Then what kind of bodyguard are you? How can you protect her if you don't know where she is? C'mon, Valentine. Don't play games with me. You know where she is."

Silence. Vincent did not break eye contact. Reno shook his head in frustration. By this point, the three men were alone in the bar.

"Nibelheim? Gonna hide out with Tifa? Ooh, probably not if Cloud is around...awkward, right? Kalm? Too close to Midgar, to Edge. Cosmo? There's nobody left there to help her." He looked back at Rude while he thought aloud. Then it clicked. He chuckled, and turned slowly, cryptically back to Vincent.

.

Aria thanked the gods for her sobriety as she sped through the topography of the western continent. Her mind raced, searching for a safe place to stay. Nibelheim was too risky with Tifa and Barret's suspicions, Cosmo was too obvious. Gongaga's reactor brought too much potential attention. Kalm was too close to Edge, and ferries were only running North at this time of night.

North.

The Forgotten City.

A smile crossed her lips, for she sensed that peace and revelation awaited her.

.

"The Forgotten City," Reno announced. "Of course. You holed up there after Meteorfall and no one found you for months. Too bad you ruined that for her. I might not have considered it if you two weren't so...close."

Vincent clenched his jaw.

"Well, thanks for your help, yo," Reno said, and turned around to leave.

"Wait."

He stopped and turned only his head. "What? A feeble attempt to stop us?"

"Just give her some time," Vincent said, surprising himself with the words.

"And why would I do that? She's a wanted criminal, you know. Orders are orders," he replied coyly, gradually turning back to face Vincent.

"I could have killed you. I didn't," Vincent reminded him.

Reno was silent for a long moment, reflecting on his words and all that they implied. "What do I get for this?"

Vincent's jaw relaxed slightly. "I don't have much to offer. What do you want?"

They stared at one another for a long, loaded moment. Reno finally looked him up and down and grinned. "That," he said, nodding toward Vincent's left holster.

His brow furrowed as he pulled out his golden Buntline. It had become one of his favorite weapons. Fighting back a sigh, he handed it over. Reno grabbed it roughly, then admired it for another long moment. "Nice," he said under his breath.

Vincent cleared his throat.

"You know, I like you. You don't do all that talking, like the rest of your little friends. So, just this once...we won't follow. Yet." Rude shook his head at Reno's deal. "But don't expect a call before we do. When we come back, she's ours, and you're not going to get in the way," he said, pointing a long finger at Vincent, "or you're going down with her."

"The President will not like this," Rude said quietly.

"Ah, he'll understand. Sometimes, the target slips away. We're only human, after all. And I _did_ get him a gift," Reno said, slapping Vincent on the back, then turning to leave.

With the Turks heading back to the resort, Vincent headed back to his black bike. The engine purred to life beneath him, and off he sped, to protect The Target.


	19. Private Revelation

By the time her two tires crossed into the empty city, Aria's arms were trembling, her back aching down to her bones. The drive, combined with the quick ferry from Northern Corel, had taken nearly six hours. The sun was rising as she killed the engine and slid off of the offending machine, leaving it at the edge of town, walking to the nearest, undoubtedly empty house, and passing out in a small bed.

She could not have known that she had absentmindedly chosen Vincent's former home, just as he could not have expected him to walk in on her sleeping in his former bed. Instinctively, he backed away, but something stopped him from leaving. Instead, he crouched near the bed and watched her softened face as she slept off the exhausting trip. He, too, was worn by the drive, and rubbed his own shoulders to relieve the tension. As he did so, he thought about her abrupt departure, watching her sleep all the while, watching for signs of consciousness.

Vincent was aware that he had explained his stay in the Forgotten City to Tifa in front of Aria. She knew he had escaped to this very place after Meteorfall. Logically, if trying to lose him, she would not lead him to such a familiar place. She must have spotted the suits.

So what was she doing? Didn't she say she didn't want to run anymore? Didn't she say she was ready to be caught?

Had she only said those things to make him feel better about abandoning her?

His mind was suddenly racing with these thoughts. He could not decide if he was glad Aria had not yet given up on a life, or if he was saddened by her need to suddenly be alone. Was he hindering her progress? What was she progressing toward? Whatever clarity she sought, he thought, there was no better place to find it than this city. With this satisfying thought in mind, he left the small house for a similar one farther in the city in which he could hide his motorcycle. This village would not offer much for hiding, but secrecy was his strong suit.

He dropped his pack on a small table by the door and climbed the strangely formed stairs to the bed, where he collapsed and remained until midday.

Aria's experience of the city was not unlike his own. She spent her days in her little house, or out wandering the immediately surrounding woods. At night, she spent several hours in the temple. Occasionally, she ventured to Bone Village for supplies, as he had done months before, and did again when she slept.

She nearly became nocturnal, often sleeping into the late afternoon, wandering into the temple at sunset. Vincent did not follow her there. He did not hear the questions she asked day after day. He did not hear the incomprehensible replies. Instead, he paced around the edges of the city, into the forest, up into the trees, learning every detail of his surroundings.

Though time in the city seemed at a standstill, weeks passed rather quickly. Over and over, Vincent convinced himself that he needed to be near her. Protecting her sacred search was all he wanted to do. Eventually, he started to believe it. He began accepting that he would watch from afar and never speak to her again. When she finally found what she was looking for, he would not be there to share in her peace and understanding. She might never tell him her secret, whatever it was, if it existed at all. He struggled to justify protecting a woman whose true identity was a mystery, so he chose to protect his memory of who she had been. He kept watch over the city for the lively, brave woman who breathed fire and danced with strangers to tribal music. He protected not the ghostly woman whose feet carved a unique path to and from the temple, but the woman with a devilish smile who cut his own shirt from his body to get closer to him. That wild, magnetic woman was still inside her, and she deserved his protection.

Night after night, he pictured the coming attack. Reno and Rude would undoubtedly come together, finding her in the temple, most likely. They would not respect the space as Avalanche did. They would stand on the altar, where no one else stood these days. They would shoot the place up chasing after her, disturbing the waters, breaking the natural structures, ruining the sanctity of the place. The voices would stop in their presence. He would come in from the winding stairs, only using spells, unwilling to destroy the fragile environment with his own bullets. They would not back down again, he would be forced to kill them, or let her go. He would use Death, as it was fastest and least painful, if it worked properly. She would know he'd followed her, and either be relieved or upset. Either was better than dead. But that was a very real possible outcome. He pictured it: her lifeless body lying next to the water, bleeding into it as Reno and Rude walked away laughing. But that was not the deal. _"She's ours, and you're not going to get in the way, or you're going down with her." _ The image changed, adding his own body to the temple floor, at his final breath, stretching his arm to touch her one more time, and only an inch too far away. Yes, if Turks got to him, this is exactly how they would do it. He knew.

These dreams woke him every night in the beginning. He would grit his teeth and shake the images from his mind. He paced the floor of the house until his muscles relaxed. He looked to Aria's small house in the distance and saw nothing out of place. He slept once more. As time went on, the dreams became less vivid, ending less tragically. They became practice sessions, instead, as he worked out his plan of defense. Eventually, the dream tired of itself, and faded away altogether.

Throughout the rest of the planet, spring chased away winter. Flowers bloomed, the sun lingered in the sky a little longer. In the north, Aria's skin grew whiter and whiter, her dark hair grew longer and longer. Her arms grew thinner, her muscles no longer needed. Her energy never wavered, though. Each afternoon she rose and calmly, peacefully made her way to the cool blue water inside the holy building.

Vincent, too, had changed as he guarded the city. His belts fastened a notch tighter. His fingers were noticeably bony. But he remained, chained to his self-appointed duty, watching Aria drift back and forth to the temple. He grew uncharacteristically lethargic. The slightest sound from the woods no longer made him leap to his window or grab his gun. He kept his materia in a wicker basket instead of loading it up every day. The constant threat of a Shinra helicopter somehow vanished. They never showed. He dreamed less and less, but slept more and more. Perhaps he did not belong in the city, and it was telling him so.

As spring overtook the abandoned village, so did a new electricity. Aria walked with more purpose toward the temple in the evenings, as though she could not wait to get there. Vincent sat up a little straighter to watch. When she emerged hours later, her again-lavender eyes glowed. She nearly floated back to her borrowed home. Still, he did not hear the questions she asked. But now, he did not hear the answers.

New sounds filled his ears on a particularly warm morning. He dragged himself from his bed and looked carefully out the window, concealing as much of his face as possible. Across the town, Aria was revving up her motorcycle, testing its viability after weeks of disuse. It roared as though she had abandoned it only the night before.

Adrenaline shocked him into the present, forcing him to face the fact that she was leaving. _She must have found what she was looking for. She must have been answered._ The energy behind her movement seemed to support these ideas. Her face was set with a new determination. He packed his few belongings into the black bag once again and stretched as many muscles as possible, cursing himself for allowing his body to deteriorate even slightly.

While he gathered his belongings and set everything back into place in his house, the running motor went silent. Upon returning to the window, he found her walking once more toward the temple, a rare Ancient flower in her hand. _A sign of gratitude. Yes, she is finished here._

Her slim figure disappeared into the familiar structure, and he watched its entrance carefully. While he watched, his ears picked up another sound, unfamiliar and increasing in volume, in proximity. An engine, similar to Aria's, but deeper. A white, old bike pulled into the city and stopped alongside her own. The rider wore a heavy gray jacket with thick black pants.

Confusion swept over Vincent like a heavy blanket. He knew he could not risk stepping outside and sacrificing his cover yet, so he watched from his window. Soon after, Aria stepped out from the temple and ascended the path back toward the houses. Upon seeing the new addition to the city, she picked up her pace and smiled broadly.

"Cloud! What in the world...?" she said, loud enough for Vincent to hear.

"You were not easy to find, you know? I had to call Bone Village three times to find out if anyone had seen you," the younger man answered, stepping off of his bike.

"Why were you trying to find me, anyway? I thought I was off limits," she joked, meeting him at their bikes. Vincent cracked his window silently to hear the conversation. His blood warmed menacingly at this intrusion.

"Just curious about you, really. You disappeared so fast in Costa del Sol. No one has heard from Vincent, and he was our only connection to you. Are you headed somewhere now?"

She smiled again and nodded. "I am. I have...finished here, I guess. I was going to go visit my parents, actually. In Nibelheim."

Cloud tilted his head. "What? Your parents live there?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, scratching her head. "Um...no. Poor phrasing. They're buried at the base of Mt. Nibel. And, as it turns out, I would feel much better having an escort. You want to go home?"

He shrugged in response. "Of course I could do that."

As she grabbed her last few belongings and fastened her bag to her back, the blond looked her over.

"So you found what you were looking for?" he asked quietly. Vincent clenched his jaw at the younger man's familiarity.

"Clarity? Yes. The planet spoke to me. ...Finally," she answered, kick-starting her engine and zipping her leather jacket.

They nodded to one another, and within a minute, were out of view, so far from the city. Vincent rolled his shoulders three times and took several deep breaths. Something felt wrong about Cloud's appearance, about his interest in a stranger. It was unlike Cloud to go so drastically against Tifa's wishes. It was unlike Cloud to care enough about a stranger to seek her out on the far end of the planet.

Pushing these thoughts aside, he mounted his own bike, and once again, sped off after her.

Minutes into the trip, Vincent was grateful for his vehicle's speed. Cloud had taken a westward detour. Aria followed close behind at the promise of a shortcut. Farther behind her rode Vincent, suddenly quite skeptical of the route.

Eventually, Aria lifted her face shield and shouted over to Cloud, "I think you got some bad info on this shortcut. We should be there by now!"

"No, we're not going to Bone Village," he called back. "We're taking the new ferry system from outside of Icicle."

"What? Do I look like I'm dressed for that weather? This jacket isn't heavy enough for that! Let's go back!" she pleaded.

Vincent saw the conversation without hearing the words as he rode in the few shadows the topography had to offer. _What is going on..._

"No, you'll be okay. You'll love it, trust me. It drops off right outside of Nibel," Cloud shouted back, ending the conversation.

Minutes later, the three bikes crossed into the perpetual blizzard of the Northern Continent. Aria's thinner arms struggled to control her heavy bike on the simultaneously slick and powdery ground. Fifteen minutes passed, and she could no longer see anything but Cloud's taillight. She cursed herself for following him. It was too late to turn back without losing herself in the snowfields.

The snowy weather forced Vincent to lessen his distance. Just as he found a comfortable space in his pursuit, his sensitive ears picked up the sounds of more engines, higher in pitch, coming from behind. He gritted his teeth, and mentally pushed away the desire to shoot out Cloud's tires.

Two snowmobiles flanked Vincent, one on each side. Both riders wore identical black coats, pants, boots, helmets, gloves. The rider on his left shook his head at Vincent disapprovingly and flashed the gun holstered to his hip, right next to an electro-mag rod.


	20. Red Snow

"Slow down!" Aria shouted to Cloud. He turned his head to glance back at her, but instead looked past her and saw three vehicles not far behind. She could not see through his helmet, but his eyes grew dark as he swore under his breath.

"God...dammit, Vincent. I thought you'd do this," he said to himself.

Seeing no other option, Cloud slammed his brake. Aria sped past him, not expecting the sudden stop. She struggled to control her own stop, but still slid out of sight through the increasing blizzard.

The snowmobiles gained speed, leaving Vincent's sides to chase after Aria. Cloud extended his arm from his stopped bike. Vincent, unable to stop on the slick snow, closed his eyes as his body crashed into Cloud's, both of them landing on the frozen ground.

As soon as he knew his body was fully intact, Vincent lept to his feet. The wind whipped his hair around his face. He kept his eyes low to avoid the snow, and started to go after Aria on foot. A strong arm stopped him, pulling him back by the shoulder. Dread, fury, and confusion fought for control of his emotions as he turned and came face to forehead with Cloud.

"Cloud, you don't know what you're doing..." he started.

"Vincent, please don't make this difficult. I'm willing to overlook the fact that you were accompanying a murderer, a terrorist. I'm not willing to overlook who she was before all of that. Who she helped gain power."

"Your information is second-hand. You don't know the whole story. I don't even know it."

Cloud sighed, but kept his eyes on Vincent. "I know enough. Why do you even care? How much time did you really spend with her?"

"So you hunted her down. Put another life in danger at someone else's command. This is how you 'live for yourself?'" Vincent asked sharply, quoting Cloud's words from the beach of Costa del Sol.

In response, Cloud shook his head. "You've been shadowing her? This whole time, you've been protecting her. Vincent..." he trailed in a tone that neared condescending.

Vincent closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, trying to stop himself from laying out his former leader. Two gunshots sounded through the blizzard. Red eyes snapped open with a new fire burning inside of them. "Cloud, you don't know what you're up against. She has something to offer this planet. She is _good,_" he growled, convincing himself he believed it. This was the only warning he would be offering. The wind picked up. Cloud had to shout for his voice to carry.

"Because she heard voices in the temple? She couldn't have understood them; no one does. She has to face the consequences of her actions."

Cloud's words pushed Vincent's patience too far. As his top lip snarled, he lowered his head, and quietly growled, "Then so must you."

In a flash, Vincent was behind Cloud, grabbing his arms and holding them behind his back with a dangerously sharp claw. Cloud struggled, but was no match for Vincent's speed. From the corner of his eye, he saw a green glow in Vincent's hand.

"Vincent, no! Don't do this," he warned.

"You will survive," were Vincent's only words before the green light grew, and dragged Cloud to sleep in the snow.

Then, he ran. The cold air burned his lungs as he flew across the fields, pushing his body to its limit. Snowflakes could not hold on to his speeding form, and parted for him as he passed. His mind disconnected from his body, determining his next move, ignoring the pain of his lungs, his legs. As he thought less about his body, it continued to accelerate. Within seconds, the situation came into view.

Rude held Aria from behind, his arm locked around her neck. The snow around her kicking feet was dark red, a hole in each thigh. Reno stood across from her, aiming a black gun at her with his right hand, hanging up a cell phone with the left.

"He wants the honor for himself, not that we're surprised," Reno told Aria.

Vincent's ears picked up the words easily, even from his decreasing distance.

"You're making a mistake. Just let me explain," she yelled through gritted teeth.

"You can explain to him. I have nothing else to say to you," Reno answered.

"You're smarter than this, Reno, aren't you?" She had become both frantic and furious. "Are you really going to blindly follow him into destruction? If he kills me, the whole planet will pay. Trust me, Reno. Believe me," she pleaded.

"And who, exactly, will carry THAT out for you? Who is going to avenge a murderer? Certainly not that Avalanche gang. Or didn't you notice who lured you into us? And Valentine? Please. He's probably offed himself by now with the guilt of protecting such a monster."

She swallowed hard at his words and carried on. "It's not revenge. Nobody will avenge me, I know that. But if I die, things far worse than me will come," she said, ending the conversation.

"I gotta admit, I was hoping for faster blood loss than this...you're still way too reactive, 'yo!" he called, taking sharper aim at her stomach.

"Reno, no! Please! Listen to me!" she screamed through the wind, writhing in Rude's strong arms, cutting off her own air with her struggle.

"A friend of yours taught me this shot. Won't kill you, but it'll knock you on your ass," Reno explained, prefacing his shot. She closed her eyes. As he pulled the trigger, a black blur crossed the distance between them.

Aria opened her eyes upon feeling no shot. Reno was laughing. To her right lay Vincent, bleeding out into the snow, struggling to stand. Entertained by this turn of events, Reno watched and laughed.

"This is just too good! Oh, what have I done to deserve this? Everything is going so right!" he yelled in between hysterical laughs.

At this, a helicopter appeared in the horizon. "About damn time, Elena!" Reno called.

Vincent stood, finally, a searing pain shooting through his stomach to his back. He reached for his Outsider. His vision blurred. His ears rang with sharp laughter, the sound of the shot, Aria yelling his name. In a brief moment of clarity, he saw Reno wave dismissively to Rude, who then let go of Aria. As her weight rested again on her wounded legs, they fell from under her. She groaned in pain, but managed to crawl toward Vincent. The helicopter began descending several yards away. Snow flew in drifts around them.

His vision blurred again, and darkness surrounded him.

Reno and Rude watched the two once-frighteningly powerful people struggle to reach each other. Aria clawed her way through the snow, leaving a trail of blood behind her. Vincent glanced down at his left hand pressed against his stomach. Blood ran in streams across his golden fingers. He looked away quickly, and back to Aria. He shook his head slightly and held up his right hand to stop her. The Outsider fell from his fingers.

"It's almost kind of sad," Reno commented offhand. Rude nodded.

Then, "What...what's he doing?" asked Rude.

Darkness consumed Vincent; he disappeared into a cloud of black.

"No...no, no, no! Get her! Get her away!" Reno cried, sprinting forward toward Aria and the cloud of blackness. An unearthly screech filled the air, stopping the Turks in their tracks, forcing them to cover their ears.

Aria rested in the snow and watched the cloud with admirative wonder. Her eyes glowed bright violet; a smile fell upon her lips. "Come on..." she whispered.

"Son of a bitch..." Reno uttered, uncovering his ears and ordering Rude, "Shoot!"

They opened fire into the cloud. Aria dragged herself forward, grabbing the Outsider from the snow. She turned her body over and fired back at Reno and Rude. A demonic roar from behind caused her cease fire and cover her ears once more. The two Turks took the opportunity to lunge forward, pistol whip Aria's temple, and grab her under her arms. The gun fell from her hand.

As they dragged her toward the helicopter, the black cloud faded away. Rude glanced back and swore under his breath.

"Don't you look back, Rude. Don't you fucking look back there! Just get to the chopper!" Reno called over the blizzard, the helicopter blades, the growl of a demon.

Aria held onto consciousness just long enough to open half-lidded eyes and see Chaos lift the Death Penalty at the helicopter, blasting three massive holes into the metal side. She saw his yellow eyes, his deadly fangs, his red leathery wings, and smiled weakly, thinking back the Harvest Festival. She grunted and thought, _I had the face of death all wrong..._ before slipping away into a darkness of her own.

From the damaged helicopter, Elena and Rude shot down at the disturbing creature below, landing several bullets in its legs and chest, through its wings, as Reno flew them away. Chaos did not follow, but instead went into a state self-preservation, sorting through Vincent's very few images of people who could, or would, help him. A decision was made; Chaos took flight.

The sun claimed noon as weakness overtook the body of Chaos. He had trailed blood along his journey, and dropped more now.

A single red drop landed on the wing of the Tiny Bronco II as Cid polished.

"What the hell?" he grumbled. A shadow slid across the surface of the plane, then across the grass. The pilot looked up and nearly jumped out of his skin, the cigarette falling from his lips. Chaos circled his back yard, high in the sky, and losing control of his flight. Cid shook his head in panic as the red wings folded in on themselves, sending the body in a twisting freefall. He had no time to react before a flash of blinding light forced him to close his eyes. When he opened them, Vincent lay unconscious, a heap of limbs, his hair covering his face, on his side in the grass.

"In the name of all things holy...You know how to make a goddamn entrance."


	21. Awakening

Aria awoke on a white bed, surrounded by white curtains. A machine beeped steadily behind her. Her head throbbed, but she persisted in raising it to look around the room. She was alone.

Knowing this chance would likely not come again, she put all of what little energy she had into focusing on escape. Her eyes flitted about her surroundings.

_Machine, hooked to chest. IV, arm. Door to right. Once out, choose a direction and run. Left. Get to door, run left._

After three deep breaths, she unstuck the two small pads from her chest. The machine sounded a steady, though expected alarm. She clenched her teeth and pulled the IV from her arm.

_Get to the door, run left._

She quickly stood and took one step before falling hard onto the floor. Numbness consumed her from the waist, down.

She sighed out a swear, rested her head on the floor, and waited.

Seconds later, a nurse rushed in and knelt beside her.

"Oh, honey, we were hoping you wouldn't try this... We had to numb you to get those bullets out," the middle-aged nurse explained. Her voice was kind, her touch gentle, as she began to help Aria up. Her kindness was unexpected, and made Aria want to cling to her. She resisted.

"Leave her," a painfully familiar voice commanded the nurse. Aria watched the scuffed black shoes walk into the room.

"Oh, sir, it would be better for her to..." the nurse started, trying to help Aria.

She was cut off. "I've got her. Leave her."

The nurse gave Aria a very quick pat on the shoulder and scurried out of the room.

"Makin' a break for it so soon?"

"Fuck off, Reno," she spat, dizziness setting in.

"Don't exert yourself with those curses. You're short on blood. And we can't afford to give you any..."

She sighed. A blood transfusion risked tainting her blood with lifestream. And if they were not giving her blood...

"Yeah, the jig is up. Big deal." Her pleas for her life had clearly compromised the little cover she had left. Penelope Marx was officially dead. The floor was cool and welcoming against the spinning of her vision.

"Oh, it _is_ a big deal. Don't you see? Now we can answer all kinds of questions. Did you defect because of some unrequited love for the great, misunderstood General? Or do you share some genetic cause of 'crazy'? Pure Strand: is that what made you serve up the late President to Sephiroth on a silver platter? Is that what makes you so damn hard to get rid of? And can we duplicate it for our own military? Gods, wouldn't that be something? Shinra would be unstoppable."

A short laugh escaped her. "Yes, but then...you _have _to let me live."

"'Living' can be rather subjective. Sure, we'll keep your heart beating. Hell, you'll probably be conscious for most of it. But 'living'? Well, it's not what _I_ would call a life. Now, come on, up you go," he said lightly, grabbing her roughly under her arms and swinging her back up onto the bed.

"That's not how it works..." she said weakly, realizing her words were in vain.

"Tell it to the doctors."

With that, he was gone. A tortured sleep came.

.

Vincent awoke on a gray bed, shop lamps blasting light onto him. He felt as though he were freezing, despite the heat of the lamps.

"Don't move, don't move, don't move," a gruff, concentrating voice told him. He remained still. Feeling returned, much to his dismay.

Shera worked diligently on removing a piece of a bullet from his left leg with a long set of forceps while Cid pinned his leg to the bed.

"Almost got it," she said calmly. He felt the metal drag back through his skin and repressed a growl.

"There it is," she announced, holding up the bloodied bullet. "You're lucky it missed your femoral artery. That could have killed you," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Thank you, Shera," he said lowly through gritted teeth.

"Oh, Vincent, you're welcome. We still have one more to go, though," she replied apologetically.

He raised his head and looked down his body. His shirt and pants had been removed. Three bandages had already been applied: one on his left bicep, one on his right shin. A cloth had been tied around his stomach to stop the bleeding from an untreated wound.

"No. It's not there. It went through," he explained hoarsely. His mouth tasted like blood.

"Damn, Vince. What the hell happened to you?" Cid asked, unwinding the cloth from the wound.

"Poor shots."

"In the sense that you're still alive, maybe. But they still shot you to shit. Who was it?" Cid persisted.

"Turks."

The room went silent. Cid sighed in agitation. Shera watched the pilot's face for an explanation.

"Yeah...I'd hoped that wasn't the case, you crazy bastard. Where is she?"

Shera began cleaning the wound on his stomach. He hissed at the sting of alcohol. She winced with him. "I'm sorry, sweetie..."

"I don't know. Edge, probably. Dead, probably," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat.

Cid furrowed his brow at the bluntness of Vincent's words.

He continued, "Pure Strand...she knows. She knows what it is, why she has it." He pushed his head back into the bed as Shera stitched his skin together.

"And how did she find this out?" Cid asked skeptically.

"The Temple. The planet spoke to her."

Shera breathed deeply, concentrating on her work despite the conversation happening over her.

"I'd like to meet _this_ woman..." she said quietly.

"Better be packin' if you do. Trouble just seems to follow her..." Cid grumbled. Vincent did not object.

"Alright...finished. You can Cure now," Shera informed Cid.

"You ready for this? It's gonna burn like hell," Cid warned. The look on Vincent's face read, dripping with sarcasm, _Are you serious?_

Upon the initial burn of the Cure, Vincent closed his eyes and let his skin reform. The process was, indeed, painful, but suffering through meant walking away from a point-blank shot to the stomach. The pain was worth it.

Ten minutes later, Vincent lay patched up, catching his breath on Cid's bed. His friend sighed, ran his hand through his tousled hair, and raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, so what do we do now?" he asked, clearly volunteering for whatever Vincent planned next.

"You don't need to get involved, Cid..." he answered.

"I'm already involved. Maybe you didn't notice, but Shera and I just pieced your ass back together. You say she's worth saving, I want to find out why. What's the plan?" he said more firmly.

"They have her in Edge. They must. She's hurt. I don't know what they're planning. I don't know if they would have taken her to the hospital or not."

"Then we go to the hospital and find out. Get yer ass dressed. You got a flight to catch."

.

"Psst. Wake up, Sweetie. Wake up."

Aria jumped to consciousness and found her wrists strapped to her hospital bed.

"I'm sorry about the restraints," said the gentle nurse, "but we can't risk you falling again. You have a visitor. Do you want me to brush your hair or anything before he comes in?"

She narrowed her eyes at the nurse. "No, I'm fine."

"Okay, then. I'll just let him in, then." The nurse disappeared. Immediately after, Reno pushed the hooded figure in the white wheelchair into the room. Aria laughed and let her head fall back on her pillow.

"I get it. Resigning me to your same sorry fate," she said, staring at the ceiling.

"Not exactly," the smooth voice replied. Reno closed the door. Rufus removed his hood and stood. She stopped laughing and watched him closely.

"Your eyes are back to normal. That's good. It would have been a shame to lose those pretty eyes. They're the only thing that set you apart from the rest of those eco-terrorists with equally hollow chips on their shoulders. You've really made a mess for me, Marx. ...Aria."

"Having trouble hiring more lackeys?" she asked, her eyes shifting to Reno, who scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Rufus smiled and shook his head, pulling an empty syringe from his breast pocket. He fingered her IV before pulling back the plunger and placing the needle against her IV tubing.

"Tell me why I shouldn't let this air in your IV."

Without missing a beat, she answered, "Pure Strand. I'm your Savior. I can protect you like no one else can."

"Bullshit."

"Try it. Kill me. Sit back, watch the destruction ensue. He'll be back, you know. One way or another..."

Loaded silence filled the room. Rufus dropped the needle to his side.

"Prove it," he commanded.

"I've been proving it since I started working for your company. Why did I survive training with SOLDIER? Why did I survive your little punishment at Nibel? Why did I survive two shots to the fucking legs? She's watching over me, so that I can watch over you."

"And who exactly is _she?"_ he asked, skeptical.

"Gaia."

"You don't believe this shit, do you?" Reno asked brashly.

Rufus raised his hand to silence Reno. "And did Gaia send Valentine to help you?"

"I don't know. But he did come, and I did live on a little longer, didn't I? And as a result, you've had peace."

"You call losing twenty men in one day 'peace'?" he asked, glaring at her through one icy blue eye.

"Maybe not from me, but someone else sure has been quiet."

He shook his head in frustration, as if to say, "out with it."

"Jenova."

Rufus and Reno both laughed. "You're insane," Reno uttered through a dismissive chuckle.

"Maybe. But as long as you have that specimen on the planet...you, and the citizens of the planet are not safe. It will spread itself across the population as a disease. Then, worse. If I die...he _will _return."

"You both lived at the same time before. You certainly never seemed bent on stopping him then."

She sighed. "No. I was not on the right side of that battle. But I outlived him. I am stronger now. I have proven myself. And I'm the only one that can stop him from coming back."

"How?" Rufus asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"I don't have the lifestream in me. I am not susceptible to any of the effects Jenova has on humans. It attacks and takes over through a person's lifestream, clouding thought and judgment, taking over from the stream, from the soul...and working toward the surface."

"And since you don't have a soul..." Reno joked, dismissing her claims.

"No. I have a soul of my own. When _I_ was made, I didn't need the lifestream. I was created to protect it."

More silence. Rufus finally made eye contact with her. "So what do you suggest we do in this little predicament?"

"Break it down. Compact what's left of Jenova. Inject it into me. My body can contain it."

"And when you go batshit crazy like the rest of them?" Reno asked.

"_Then_ you can kill me."

"No," Rufus interjected. "We'll run tests in the lab. We'll run a simulation with blood samples to see what will happen. If your samples die..." Rufus trailed off, insinuatingly.

She nodded, seeing no other option. "Fair enough."

"What of this disease?"

"Geostigma. It's too late. It's already begun. I'm sorry," she said, then cursed herself for apologizing to him. The words seemed to strike the president just as strongly.

"Why should I trust that you won't kill me? We've wanted one another dead for a while now..." he noted.

"You're rebuilding. The reactors are down. You're..." she was at a loss for words.

"Atoning," he finished the thought for her. In response, she nodded.

"If you can make things right with your citizens, I can keep things right with the planet."

Reno shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Alright, what about Valentine? If he survived..._whatever_ that was...he'll be here in no time. You know that."

"Let him come. You'll explain what's happening here, right?" he addressed Aria.

She nodded.

"When he comes," Rufus said lightly, "thank him for the gun." He reached into his jacket and pulled out the Buntline. Her heart felt as though it skipped a beat at the sight. "It's a charming addition to my collection."

"Where did you..." she asked, trailing off at the sight of the golden weapon.

Reno cleared his throat. "You really didn't know? Some Turk. He was in Costa del Sol, Sugar. He, and that gun, is the reason you made it to the Temple at all."

Suddenly, she was exhausted. Sleep seemed a welcome escape from the conversation. She closed her eyes, and did not see Rufus wave Reno out of the room.

Her eyes opened at cool fingers brushing against her skin. Rufus was unbuckling the restraints on her wrists. He noticed her confusion.

"Well, you can't run, anyway. Penelope...Aria," he corrected, "I'm sorry for the way things have turned out."

Images of her lifeless family flashed into her mind. She shook them off and looked away from his face.

He continued, "I have no logical reason to trust you. None. I will anyway. I have known you longer than anyone else around now. I know you're a capable woman."

Aria finally met his eyes. "And? Where is the threat?"

"No threat. You know what we'll do if you go astray again. But you won't," he answered, shocking her with his sincerity. "It's good to have you back," he said, touching her hand before standing and knocking three times on the door.

Reno reentered, Rufus reclaimed his place in the white wheelchair, and covered his head once again. Just before exiting, Reno shot Aria a razor sharp glare.


	22. The Reason

Night fell across Edge with a vengeance. Most of the street lamps that had been placed were at the center of the city. Cid cursed the darkness as he followed Vincent's red cloak through the outer streets.

"What kind of security are we lookin' at, here?" he asked as they neared the hospital.

"I can't say. Enough to try to keep us out...and her in," Vincent responded quietly.

"Well, good god," Cid mumbled.

Within minutes, the two men were looking at the Edge General Hospital.

"Alright. I'll go in and...I don't know, ask for her room? I mean..it's a start," offered Cid. Vincent looked at him and shrugged.

"I'll just work some of my charm..." Cid said, walking coolly to the front doors.

Moments later, the front doors slid open automatically, and Cid walked up to the front desk. A short receptionist greeted him.

"Good evenin', Ma'am. I'm looking for a friend of mine...She's rather...high profile...probably has a private suite."

"Her name?" the reception asked.

"Marx. Possibly. Might be using a pseudonym..."

"Aria Marx? Room 430."

Cid shook his head in shock. "You serious? Visitors welcome and all that?"

"Sure. There are no notes here to tell me otherwise. Gift shop is down to your left, across from the elevators."

Cid could not help but laugh at how simple the process had been. He shook his head and stepped back outside, waving Vincent in.

They paced the lobby quickly toward the elevator, eyes constantly scanning the faces around them. Just before approaching the elevator, Cid hit Vincent's arm with the back of his hand. When Vincent turned to look, Cid pointed with his thumb, questioningly, at the gift shop. Vincent's eyes narrowed.

.

The elevator doors opened, and the two stepped out onto the fourth floor, Cid carrying a massive bouquet of flowers. Nurses watched the men closely as they walked down the long hall and found room 430 at the end. The door was closed. A knot suddenly formed in Vincent's stomach. Cid noticed his hesitance.

"It's okay. She's here, she's alive. I bet she'll be glad to see you," the pilot said, trying to soothe his friend.

"Why was it so easy to find her? Why has no one stopped us?" Vincent asked in return, trying to determine what was waiting to go wrong.

"I don't know, but just try to enjoy the simplicity for once. Go."

Without knocking, Vincent pushed the flat door handle and stepped silently into the room. He cringed at the sound of beeping monitors and the smell of disinfectant.

Cautiously, he turned the corner, bracing himself for the worst. At the sight of her, tension immediately left his shoulders.

She turned her head and breathed deeply, her mouth opening in speechlessness.

Her hair was a tangled mess, her skin was pallid, but her eyes were instantly bright.

"Vincent...you're okay..." she choked out. He closed the distance between them quickly, disregarding Cid's presence in his need to touch her. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, his face buried in the crook of her neck. She held him tightly in return, resting her head on his shoulder. For a long moment they remained, tightly holding one another without words.

Cid set the flowers on a small table and resigned himself to the hallway.

"Aria...I...I'm so sorry I let this happen," he said in a deep, muffled voice.

She balked. "_You?_ Please. This was coming from Day One. I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Cid and Shera...put me back together. Your legs..." he said, pulling away and looking down at her blankets.

"Numb. But attached. Two different nurses have told me I'll be walking around in no time, and I'm choosing to believe them."

"Your eyes..."

She nodded. "Yep. Mako-free." At this, she pulled him back in and wrapped her arms around his neck a little tighter. His arms snaked around her back, fingers gently pressing into her skin.

She sighed and pressed her forehead to his, whispering, "Just when I needed you most...here you are."

"Aria..." he started, considering whether he should be honest, "...I never left."

A tear streamed down each of her cheeks, yet a smile broke out on her lips. She nodded. "I know. You stubborn ass, I know. But you stayed on your own accord. Not because I asked you to."

He wiped the tears from her face. "Of course."

"That made all the difference. I found it, Vincent," she said, her fingers intertwining with his hair. Her eyes glowed under tears. "My peace. The planet spoke to me. To _me!_ I know what I am now. I know why I'm here."

His curiosity was undeniable, but took a backseat to his need to be near her. He tilted his head just slightly, gently pressing his lips against her own. She pulled him into a deeper kiss. The monitor's incessant beeping increased in tempo. She smiled into his lips, and could have sworn for a split second, she felt him do the same.

.

An hour later, Cid sat in a chair in the corner of the room watching a muted TV while Vincent remained on the bed next to Aria. He had worked nearly all of the knots from her hair with his ungloved right hand, so gently that she had felt nothing at all.

"What is the catch, here?" he finally asked, watching her hair cascade smoothly over her shoulder. "Why were we allowed to find you so easily?"

Cid turned and watched for a response, curious of the same question.

She breathed deeply, then looked into the concerned red eyes. "I'm not leaving. Once I can walk again, I'm taking on my new role...as guardian."

"Who you guardin'?" Cid asked.

She smiled and looked at her hands. "Gaia."

A confused expression came across Cid's features; concern contorted Vincent's.

She continued, "Jenova attacks recursively. Even after removing its beloved proxy, if the cells that remain are not contained in a controlled vessel, it will continue to attack the planet."

"And where exactly do you come in?" Cid asked.

Vincent looked away from her face to the white tile floor. "You're the vessel," he answered solemnly. "Your disconnection from the lifestream...Jenova cannot take over." His eyes were distant, but Cid knew the story replaying behind them. He predicted the images of that dank laboratory and a mad scientist telling him that another beloved brunette was volunteering for Jenova injections. Chewing on the end of an unlit cigarette, Cid waited for his expected objection. He did not have to wait long.

"No," was all that Vincent said.

Aria furrowed her brow. "What do you mean, 'no'? This is what I'm supposed to do."

Vincent still did not look at her. "It's too dangerous. You'll never survive having that many cells in you. It _will_ kill you."

Cid sat up straight as Vincent's tone escalated.

"Vincent, no...it won't..." she tried to counter. He stood and finally looked back to her face, his eyes displaying his disapproval with a dark burgundy glow. He was slipping into a blind fury, retreating into himself.

She continued, becoming more frantic at the distance in his eyes, "I _believe_ in this. And besides, they're running tests first. They'll know what to expect before they do it, and if the results aren't positive..."

"They let you go? No. You die anyway. This is insane, Aria," he said, turning, but with nowhere to go. Cid stood, and nodded to Aria.

"Now that we know we ain't movin' targets, let's get some air. We'll be back a little later, Hun," he said, leading Vincent from the room.

.

Neither man spoke until the main doors closed behind them and a light evening breeze blew Vincent's hair from his face. He leaned against the brick wall of the hospital and tucked his chin into his chest. His arms crossed over his chest. Cid knew this pose well from their travels with Cloud.

"Alright, so it ain't what ya want to hear, but I'll be damned if this didn't turn out a hundred times better than I imagined. She's up there, Vince. Alive, in one piece, up there, and you can go see her any time ya want. You gonna be mad about that?"

"No. It _is_ fortunate that she is alive and healing. But she is handing herself over to a fate worse than Shinra..."

Cid sighed in frustration. "You don't know that. Let's just get that out there right now. You don't know what that woman's capable of. Maybe she really is meant to stop Jenova. Maybe she'll handle it wonderfully. And maybe it's time to face the obvious, here, Vince."

At this, Vincent met Cid's gaze, expectantly, though he was not prepared for what his friend said next.

"She is _not_ Lucrecia."

Red eyes snapped back to the ground.

"Now, did you drag me here for some kinda redemption? Did we come here just so you can save a damsel in distress? To prove that you're able? Is that woman up there just a stand-in for Lucrecia?"

Vincent was quiet, but bristled against Cid's accusatory barrage.

"I'm callin' you out, Vince! You think I don't know what happened that night at Tifa's? You think I didn't notice how you looked at her? How you were lookin' at her ten minutes ago? That you just spent an hour with your fingers in her hair? Or how you just 'bout choked tellin' me you thought she was dead? Are you tellin' me that all this time you've been lookin' at her, you been seein' Lucrecia?"

He shook his head, his eyebrows drawn in consternation.

"Who'd you take those bullets for, Vince?"

"...Aria."

"Then let's get with the goddamn program, here. You ain't here 'cause she needs savin'. That crazy ass girl knows what she's doin'. She can save herself. So...why are ya here? Why did you step in front of a gun for that woman? Why'd ya harbor a wanted criminal? Why'd ya spit in the face of the most powerful people on the planet by helpin' her? Why are you here?"

"I don't know. She clouds my judgement, makes me...reckless. And yet she is embedded in my thoughts. I am inexplicably drawn...it's senseless," Vincent answered, stunned by the stream of answers. "I believe I'm losing my mind to her."

The steam released from his argument, Cid's tone quieted. "Well, I believe you're on your way to a pretty simple answer. Stop trying to tear it apart, Vince."

The gunman shook his head, even as the words fell from his lips and drifted like feathers, floating in front of him. "I love her."

"And that's all you can do for her right now," Cid finished.

Vincent pushed off from the wall and reentered the hospital with an altered determination. Cid remained outside, pulled his lighter from his pocket, and sighed.

"I need a goddamn smoke."


	23. Three Words

Upon re-entering room 430, Vincent found a small nurse at Aria's bedside.

"Just a little pinch here...I'll get these samples and be out of your hair," the nurse told Aria.

Aria's eyes shifted from the needle in her arm to Vincent and back again.

"How was the air?" she asked, a disapproving tone in her voice.

He said nothing, but watched the blood drain from her arm into five vials.

"When will the tests be completed?" he asked the nurse quietly.

She shook her head, but smiled. "I don't know exactly what you're having done, so it's hard to say. But I do know they're starting tonight. So, hopefully, whatever it is you need to know, you'll know by tomorrow evening. Maybe sooner. Hold this cotton ball for me, sweetie," she directed Aria after removing the needle. "Well, that does it for me. Have a good night."

They watched the nurse shuffle out, closing the door behind her.  
>"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "It's not my place to stand in your way."<br>She nodded, but smiled softly. "Thanks."

"I'm not here to stop you, or shield you. And I'm not here to stop them."

Her eyes remained on the her newly bandaged arm. "So why are you here?"

Before answering, he sat once more at the edge of her bed. "I'm just here."

A smile slowly broke out on her face. She took a deep breath, a heavy sigh, and met his eyes once more. "I like that."

.

Early the next morning, the door swung open loudly to the quiet hospital room. Vincent straightened his back in a chair by the large window, where he had remained the whole night through, watching Aria sleep. A tall doctor flipped through several papers on a clipboard before finally looking down at Aria.

"Marx? You're ready to go downstairs," he announced, shortly.

"I'm not sure that I am, actually. I can't even move from..." she tried to protest.

"You'll be fine to sit in a wheelchair; we won't have you walk." At this, two nurses entered, one with a black wheel chair.

Vincent stood. "Where will you take her?"

"Subfloor 3. You're welcome to come along. There's even an observation window," the doctor answered curtly.

The nurses quickly moved Aria into the chair, and wheeled her out of the room. The doctor followed, glancing behind him more than once as Vincent followed him.

Three stories underground, Aria was strapped to a thin bed by wrist and ankle restraints. The room smelled of sterilization, empty but for the shuffling doctor, preparing a long syringe. To her right, she saw the window through which Vincent watched every single person. Above her, she saw an observation balcony, encased in dark glass. She noticed movement behind the glass, and knew who watched from above.

"Is this really necessary?" she asked, nodding toward her restraints.

A familiar voice came over a single speaker in the corner of the room: "This quantity of Jenova has never been injected in a live specimen. And you're not exactly a textbook subject. While your cells survived last night's test run, there is still no telling what you'll do. Better safe than sorry."

A look of feigned enlightenment played on her face. It did not last. The doctor swabbed her right arm, and her face went blank. She stared up at the dark glass. The needle penetrated her vein. The plunger lowered.

And nothing.

Several tense, silent moments passed. Finally, she sighed.

"See? Can you let me go?"

The doctor began unbuckling her wrists. Upon noticing his intense focus, Aria quickly lurched at him teasingly. He jumped back, startled, and upon hearing laughter from the observation balcony, glared disapprovingly at his subject. She batted her eyes.

"Couldn't resist," she explained as he unbound her from the table.

Vincent shook his head just slightly from his own side of the glass.

.

Hours later, she sat under close observation back in her own room. No changes occurred; it was as though nothing had happened. While stretching his legs, Vincent glanced out the window, down into the parking lot. Reno, easily recognizable from a distance, stood near his own black car talking to blond man. Vincent narrowed his eyes, then backed away from the window. Aria noticed, but said nothing.

More hours passed. Finally, conversation sparked. They spoke lightly of hospital food, the doctors' credentials. Vincent relaxed into his chair at the sound of her voice.

A few moments of silence passed while they watched the sun set behind the new buildings of Edge. Then,

"That was Chaos, wasn't it?" she asked, referring to the incident on the Northern island.

Tension started in his neck and ran down his shoulders and back, forcing him to sit up straight. He answered with a nod.

"It was amazing. I've never seen anything like it."

His eyes locked on hers. "No. It's a monstrosity. It's a bloodthirsty animal. A demon. There is nothing amazing about it."

She sighed. "But you can contain it. Your body is able to hold such a creature. And it's your duty to control it, use it for good, right?"

"I was given no choice," he reminded her, his voice low.

"You had no choice in receiving the demon, but you choose to use it for good. You must understand my choice to use the body I was given for good, then."

With an extended exhale, he allowed the pieces to come together, and understood her duty.

"Birds of a feather, you and I," she said lightly. He stood, crossed the room, and allowed himself the luxury of lying beside her in the crisp hospital bed.

.

Time passed quickly, her body showing no signs of deterioration. A day slipped by, then two days. Three, four, five. Vincent became a permanent fixture in the corner of the room. They talked: his experiences with Avalanche, her better memories of Shinra, news of the WRO, the progress of Edge.

On the sixth day, doctors removed the bandages from her legs and approved of her healing. She was informed that a visitor was coming. Vincent stayed. While waiting, he finally articulated the question that had plagued his thoughts.

"What did they say to you in the temple? What did you hear?"

"I told you. Obviously," she answered, confused by the question.

"No," he lost the ability to look her in the eye. "Aeris told us...ideas are transmitted, but very few words are actually verbalized. I know the idea. What were the words?"

Silence. Her mind raced, unwilling to accept that someone else knew the ways of the temple. She had not wanted to think about those few words.

"You're right. I heard three. 'Guardian,' I believe as a description, a statement of my role here, now that I know it. 'Metamorphosis,' I still haven't quite figured out. Perhaps my way of life, or my physique will change. I don't know. It's honestly a little nerve-wracking."

"The third?" he asked, trying to decode her messages from the planet.

"Transience."

His eyes raised quickly, left eyebrow dropping in consternation. "Transience? You're worried about a transformation when you've been called transient?" he asked, trying to keep the judgement out of his voice.

"Well...that can mean a lot of things. But it doesn't mean anything I hadn't already accepted."

His stomach filled with lead at the ideas that passed through his mind. She watched his eyes darken and glaze over, the now-familiar argument forming in his throat.

"You know what I think?" she said, interrupting the derailment of his train of thought, "I think the role is transient. I think, with no lifestream to feed from, Jenova will die. The cells will not be able to sustain themselves, and, once dead, the threat is over. I go back to an everyday person. I think the nature of my role as Guardian is transient."

Her words soothed his fraying nerves, but only until the door swung open slowly. In walked Reno, pushing Rufus before him. The Turk cocked his head at Vincent, flashing an overly enthusiastic smile.

"Valentine, good to see you again," Rufus said smoothly. "Funny how things worked out, isn't it?" he said, referring to the lean woman sitting on the bed. Vincent grunted a monosyllabic response.

"I was hoping I could talk to Ms. Marx alone, if you wouldn't mind," Rufus suggested. "It will be quick, and I'm sure you won't be sorry."

"I'm staying," Vincent replied bluntly. Aria's eyebrows narrowed as she glanced back and forth between the three men. Upon catching her eye, Reno winked at her. She pursed her lips back.

"I'll be fine, Vincent. You know I'll tell you everything he says, anyway," she said, looking directly at Rufus. "Just stay outside the door."

Concern flashed across his features, but he abided by her wishes, watching Reno intently as he exited the room. The Turk followed him out shortly.

Vincent scanned the long hallway, determining why he felt threatened. Reno waited on the opposite side of the doorway under close scrutiny of crimson eyes. Finally, Reno sighed and shook his head, a noticeable smirk on his face.

"You shouldn't be lookin' at me, yo," he said coolly, just before a strong arm slammed Vincent against the wall by the neck, pinning him. His eyes darted to the significantly shorter man who held him.

"Cloud," he murmured.

"I should have killed her in Costa del Sol. Did you think I wouldn't find out what she is?"

Calmly, Vincent replied, "You're making a mistake."

"She's willingly injecting massive amounts of Jenova into herself. She's turning herself into a clone," he said between gritted teeth.

Vincent looked over at Reno, who had his head turned far in the opposite direction, looking nonchalantly away from this scene. Upon seeing Reno's casual stance, he noticed that the halls were empty of nurses, doctors, and other patients.

"Cloud, there is much to this you do not understand. You're being used to carry out a petty revenge plot, and you don't even know it." The arm pressed harder against his windpipe.

"Don't you condescend to me."

"Why are you so willing to listen to one who so recently would have eagerly killed you, yet refuse to listen to a man who has saved your life more than once on the battlefield? Why would I help her bring him back after I just helped you kill him?"

Cloud went silent, contemplating the words. "You've got two minutes." He released Vincent, who shuddered through an involuntary cough escaping his sore throat.

Vincent swallowed, rolled his shoulders back, and began talking.

.

"She won't survive that many cells. It will eat her from the inside, out. And if it doesn't, it will take her over. This is insane. I can't believe you agreed to this..."

"We can only wait at this point," Vincent replied.

A light knock sounded on the door. Reno turned to Cloud.

"Alright, you had your time, Strife You gotta go," he told the blond.

"What? I don't get to see her for myself?" he asked indignantly.

"Nothin' to see, 'yo. I gave you your time. You gotta go."

Cloud looked to Vincent, who remained expressionless.

"I'll be in touch," he told Vincent, almost threateningly, before walking away.


	24. Surfaces

Reno led Vincent back into the room. Rufus looked up at him. "We've arranged a more suitable living space for you. There are two more injections to go, at least, and we can't keep you cooped up in a hospital room. So," he explained, turning back to Aria, "you have a flat waiting for you a block away. The guards you'll see patrolling the exits? They're ours. The second we catch wind of you making a break for it, you'll have our whole squad on your tail. But...that won't be a problem, will it?"

She sighed, taking the key he extended to her. "You know it won't. I _want_ to do this, remember?"

He gave a thin smile. "You've proven me wrong before. A doctor will visit every day to check your vitals, make sure you're not a threat. Your next injection will be tomorrow morning, and they'll bring it to you."

"And after the injections are over? Am I a prisoner in a fancy cell?" she asked.

"After what you've done, you should be grateful. I haven't decided what to do with you yet. We're working on a tracker for you, so we can set you loose and still have access to your location, vital signs, and the like."

"Another animal, property of Shinra. Whatever it takes, I suppose," she said with an obviously false smile.

.

An hour later, Aria turned a silver knob and entered her new flat. Vincent stepped in behind her and immediately began inspecting the apartment for any surveillance equipment. He could not help but notice how much nicer her Shinra flat had been than what he had been given not so long ago.

"He takes care of his own..." he mused under his breath. Aria whipped her head around to look at his back.

"I am not his. I do not belong to them," she said sternly, defiantly.

He chuckled to himself and looked at her. "Of course you're not. But he still has faith that you'll come back. It's driving him insane, having you so close again, and yet still so far away."

She shook her head and turned back to the living room, lighted by a wall of windows. "You don't know what you're talking about," she argued dismissively.

"Don't I?" was his nearly silent reply. He opened two kitchen cabinets and found them filled with food: vegetables, rice, pasta, bread. The fridge had been stocked just as well.

"Would you like some water?" he asked, pulling two tall glasses from a cabinet. At her reply, he filled them both from the tap and brought them into the living room, setting hers on a dark coffee table.

She thanked him, and leaned her head against the back of the couch, stretching her neck.

"Are you afraid?" he asked bluntly.

"I can't decide," she said to the ceiling. "It's been almost a week, and nothing has happened. Maybe it will just be _this_ easy. In which case, I have a whole new set of problems."

He tilted his head in question.

"How do I just..._become_ a normal person? A citizen, obeying laws, buying groceries, cooking dinner, driving the carpool... I don't know that life. I don't know how to _not_ be running, either into or away from something. I was just handed this huge task, and yet I'm expected to carry on like a normal person, when I was never normal to begin with? When I have so much more to offer?"

He looked at his hands, flexing his fingers, one by one. "You carry on. Day by day, you wait patiently for your hand, and play the cards you're dealt. If you are meant to lead a quiet, average life, then you will. For now, you must wait for your body to tell you what comes next. If you remain healthy, then you carry on, find less volatile things that interest you than running on the front lines. If your body changes, then you will have enough to think about. For now, you wait for a sign, and enjoy the clean linens and good food while you have it."

She smiled meekly. "You've done some waiting in your time. I'll take your word for it. So," she began a toast, reaching for her glass, "here's to waiting."

Aria wrapped her fingers around the glass and picked it up. Under her grasp, it shattered, glass shards and water sent flying. A small shard stuck into her palm. Time slowed. She was aware of Vincent stepping into the kitchen for a towel, but looked only at her hand. From the corner of her eye, she saw his dark hair as he knelt and picked up the glass. She heard his voice in the distance, yet stared only into her hand. Blood pounded in her ears.

"Aria. Give me your hand. Aria," she heard him call. Her stare was not broken until a towel wrapped around her palm, forcing her to look up at him.

"You saw it," she said, a shiver running down her spine. In response, he nodded solemnly.

"Let me see," she commanded, pulling the towel away. He sighed, and took the towel from her, looking down into her hand, and the pool of mercury that had formed.

Silence dominated the apartment for hours into the night. A single lamp dimly lit the living room; the rest was shadows. Sleep had undermined Aria's panic two hours back. Vincent watched her elongated figure rest on the couch, amused by the unnatural angle her neck had taken on the armrest, but not daring to risk waking her. Her hand still gripped the white towel, silvery blots on its surface the only evidence of the earlier trauma. The stillness of the place played cruel games with his mind as he watched her sleep. In extended blinks he watched fractured, hazy scenes, gifts of his imagination, play before him: Aria, in a sleek white dress, holding a bouquet of violets, standing in the center of the Forgotten City, smiling warmly. The image melted into a greener setting, a field of wild daisies, a fair-skinned little girl with long dark hair running through the flowers, ending up at a man's waist, a bronze hand running through her hair. This startled him, forcing his eyes open. It was not a thought he'd ever once entertained in the past. He attributed it to fatigue, though he knew he was not tired.

In a another long blink, he saw the same child, sitting in tall grass. As his vision moved in closer, a headstone appeared in front of the child. He turned from the girl to the stone, and saw _Aria Marx-Valentine _engraved in an elegant script. He returned his attention to the child, but she was gone, and in her place stood Aria, in a dark blue Turk suit. She reached forward and brushed off his shoulder. Upon looking down, he saw himself in his own uniform from thirty-one years before. His left hand matched his right, and a sense of relief washed over him. As he looked back to Aria, he noticed Lucrecia standing several feet to her right, looking back at him.

"Don't wait," the ghostly vision whispered. Aria had shifted again, and now wore her Harvest Festival attire, red flowers and all. His attention turned back to Lucrecia. She repeated her words, louder. "Don't wait." Then, "I'm so sorry."

Aria laughed. "Don't be sorry," she told Lucrecia, locking eyes with Vincent. "He's an amazing creature."

The sky darkened with black clouds. He watched Lucrecia shake her head regretfully at Aria. A deafening screech drew his eyes back to her: her eyes had turned completely black, mercury poured from them in thick streams down her face, down her neck, chest, arms, dripping off of her fingertips.

"Don't wait," Lucrecia cried over the screech.

The graphic image shocked him back into reality: the silent living room in which Aria still slept, unmoving, at odd angles. The sight of her suddenly warmed him in a welcome, but overwhelming way. He closed the gap between them and took a knee in front of her couch, sliding his arms carefully under her knees and shoulders. Smoothly, carefully, he carried her into the darkened bedroom and placed her on the white king bed. After arranging a pillow under her head, he slipped her flat shoes off of her feet. While doing so, he noticed that the wings tattooed on her ankles had faded significantly. The skin underneath felt like silk, but the black had cracked and faded.

Vincent could not help but notice the look of peace on her face. He bent again, closing his eyes, and placed his lips lightly on her forehead. A sleepy, contented sigh escaped her. The corners of his lips dared to curl up just slightly at the sound. He pulled away, and his throat constricted.

Lucrecia lay on the bed, sleepily looking up at him.

"What's wrong?" she asked groggily. Her voice was as he remembered it: high, airy, ethereal. He simply stared back, unable to speak, trying to process what could have happened.

"This bed is just heaven," she sighed, turning her back to him and falling back to sleep.

He ran his left index finger across the back of his right hand. Sharp pain, a thin line of blood. He was not dreaming. A strong urge to touch her again flooded his senses. His right hand extended and touched the light brown, waist-length hair. It ran through his fingers, long past the point where Aria's would have ended. A knot formed in his stomach. He fled the room, closing the door behind him.

On the balcony, the images from his quasi-dream burned in his mind. He could not shake them away, no matter how he concentrated on the sky, the cars below, the buildings around him. Hyperventilation threatened as he looked at his trembling hands.

.

The blood pounding in his ears nearly canceled out the knocking on the front door. Vincent furrowed his brow in frustration, then smoothed out his features into his trademark stoic appearance. Just as another bout of knocking began, he swung open the door and sighed heavily.

"Cloud."

The younger man nodded. "I came to see her. I...want to believe you. I just have to see for myself."

"What do you expect to see? How will you know one way or another if she is in danger of losing her mind?" Vincent asked, already on edge, believing he was losing his own. Cloud pulled his head back at the unusually stern tone, unaware of whose sanity truly felt threatened.

"Her eyes," was Cloud's succinct answer. "That's all I can go on. I'm tired, I want to go home. I want to stop being lied to and used. But I know I won't be able to rest without seeing her. And I brought you this..." he said, pulling the Outsider from his waistband. Vincent took it cautiously, his gratitude apparent in a single nod. He opened the door wider, allowing Cloud entrance.

"She's sleeping, but you may be able to wake her briefly." As Vincent spoke, his eyes were distant, still trapped in the haunting image from minutes before.

Cloud pushed open the white door and stepped inside the dark room. As he approached the bed, a strange lightheadedness struck him. He narrowed his eyes to see in the thin band of light from the doorway.

"Hello, Cloud," a feathery light voice greeted. His breath hitched at the sound, and he came closer.

"I thought you might come to visit me," she said. "Is there something you wanted to say?"

His logic failed him, and his restraint was nothing like Vincent's. In a single fluid movement, he lunged forward and hugged her, holding her tightly against his torso. Tears filled but did not spill from his eyes. He inhaled the unforgettably sweet scent of her light brown hair. She laughed softly, and hugged him lightly back.

"I'm so sorry," he said through the lump in his throat.

"You did what you thought was right. I'm okay now. I forgive you, Cloud."

He squeezed her tightly, eliciting a surprised laugh.

"Cloud." The deep voice tried to pull him back into reality. He resisted, burying his face deeper into the hair resting on her neck. Vincent watched from the doorway as Cloud clung tightly to a very surprised Aria. He knew what was happening to Cloud, and yet did not have the heart to end it.

"I'm so sorry, Aeris," Cloud muttered again into her neck.

"What did you call me?" she replied, pulling back some. He froze in her arms, then pulled back slowly, looking up cautiously into violet eyes. The sight repelled him violently. He leaped from the bed and walked backward to Vincent's side, never taking his eyes off of her.

"You saw it. Tell me you saw her," he begged of Vincent.

"No."

A shaky sigh escaped Cloud.

Vincent went on, "I saw someone quite different, earlier."

"Just now. You only saw Aria..."

"Yes."

"I've been here the whole time," she said, standing. "Are you seeing things?"

"No. No, we're tired. All of us are tired from this whole...this whole thing. I'm sorry," Cloud answered. "Excuse us," he finished, pulling Vincent out of the room.

"I feel like a fool. It's Jenova. It feeds on the memories of its prey. Once it has a host, it can change form...lure in its victims, or just...mangle their minds."

"But she did not attack you. She allowed you to..." Vincent did not finish the thought, but grinned slightly at the thought that followed. "It's working."

"What? She's a...a shapeshifter!" Cloud exclaimed. Vincent's eyes narrowed skeptically at the word.

"That doesn't matter. Jenova might change her body, but not her mind. She's in control of it."

"Maybe. That may have been a fluke. Maybe she's just sizing us up."

"She's not." Both men turned at the voice, back toward the bedroom doorway, where Aria stood, leaning against the doorframe. "Jenova did not affect me. It affected _you._ I had no idea I looked different than myself. I'm exactly the same as I was."

"Not exactly," Vincent noted. "Your tattoos are fading."

At this, she quickly shoved up the sleeve of her plain white t-shirt and rotated her arm. The tribal lines had faded drastically. She raised her pant leg, and found the same effect on her ankles.

"That's a shame..." she said mostly to herself.

Cloud walked back to the doorway and looked into her eyes. She looked back, playing along with his odd behavior.

"The same..." he trailed. "Vincent...I hope you're grounded enough to handle this." He addressed Aria, "Good luck. If you can pull this off, then we all owe you."

She shook her head, unable to process his suggested gratitude when she had so recently said such similar words to him.

"I'm getting out of here. If this all comes crumbling down...I just don't want to be here."

Cloud nodded to Aria, shook Vincent's hand, and left.

"That was...unexpected," Aria commented moments after the door closed behind Cloud.

Vincent nodded, locking the door. She yawned, and stretched her arms over her head.

"God, it's the middle of the night. Come to bed," she said, retreating into the bedroom.

The words fell so casually from her lips, he noted. He knew exactly how many days had passed since they had slept in the same bed. Weeks, months had gone by. Seasons had changed.

Through an extended, controlled exhale, he steadied himself, repressing the flood of emotion that threatened his balance. He swallowed away his lingering uncertainty, turned off the table lamp, and went to bed.


	25. The Taste of Simplicity

For an array of reasons, Vincent was unable to take his eyes off of Aria as she lay next him. She had already drifted back into a light sleep, her head turned slightly toward him. Her right hand lay palm up, near her face. Lightly, he ran his fingers across the skin of her palm. It was smooth, unscratched, unscarred, perfectly healed. For a single moment, he considered her undertaking, and allowed himself to imagine the possibilities of a success. Granted, her blood was unrecognizable, but she healed with amazing speed. He would have to grapple with her appearance changes at Jenova's will. These compromises were strikingly familiar. An unexpected wave of relief washed over him at the fleeting idea that he had met his match. He lay on his left side, hiding his left hand under his pillow, and rested his right hand on top of her warm, smooth wrist.

As expected, he awoke alone. Muffled voices sounded from the living room: greetings, from what he could determine. He straightened his appearance and opened the bedroom door, finding a doctor and a nurse from the hospital talking to Aria. They sat on the white couches, across from one another.

"Ah, Mr. Valentine. Good morning," the curt doctor called across the room.

Vincent nodded his reply, crossed the room, and sat next to Aria. He did not notice her eyes shift to look at him, nor her brief grin at his choice of seat. He did notice dark circles under her eyes.

"We were just preparing for the second injection. Ms. Marx's vitals are all basically normal. A slightly raised temperature, but that's not surprising. I've noted the fading of the tattoos, and am fairly convinced it's increased cell regeneration. It's almost like an extremely deep exfoliation, ridding itself of the old, growing brand new. We'll continue to watch that. Is there anything else we should know?"

Silence.

"My shoulder blade...it doesn't make sense, but it aches a little. It's come and gone since the first injection, but then, I haven't been moving as much. I'm probably just stiff."

"That's a possibility. The cells might be rejecting the prosthetic implant. The scars indicate a rather crude operation took place. If the pain continues, perhaps we can look into a more...organic, aesthetically pleasing option. Keep me informed."

Vincent's brow twitched at the doctor's phrasing. The prosthetic _was_ aesthetically pleasing, he thought. It connected them.

"Anything else?" the man asked abruptly.

She looked to Vincent quickly, then back to the doctor. "No. That's all."

"Okay."

Moments later, the doctor pressed the needle into her skin, and more cells entered her body. Again, the injection was painless. Her arm did not bleed. The doctor shook her hand, and in minutes, was gone, leaving a promise that he would return the following morning.

"You did not tell him about last night. Your hand...Cloud's vision..." Vincent noted. Aria sighed, moving toward the refrigerator. She opened it, and pulled out a variety of fruits.

"I know. I couldn't shake the feeling that...that information would be too tempting. Shinra is rebuilding, without much of a military, and if they thought they could duplicate my condition on other people...it would be a disaster. Innocent people would die, or worse, be taken over by Jenova because their bodies can't handle it." She began slicing apples while she spoke. "I just didn't see an immediate reason for telling him about my hand. I _am_ fine, after all," she noted, sliding a white bowl of apple slices across the counter toward him.

Despite the undeniably drastic circumstances, Vincent took pleasure in sharing such a normal moment with her. He sat in a bar stool opposite the counter from her, and watched her hands as they disassembled apples, pears, strawberries, and bananas.

"I hope you don't feel obligated to stay here. I know I can't leave, but you can. If you want to go out during the day, I don't want you to feel like a prisoner, too," she explained, never looking up from her work.

"I don't." This time, he noticed her small smile.

Aria continued piecing together a fruit salad, a notable energy in her work. She hummed, her head bouncing to the melody of the catchy tune. Once, very briefly, she rolled her right shoulder and grimaced, but quickly returned to the task at hand. As she focused more on her culinary masterpiece, she thought less about suppressing the song that had surfaced from her memory. Lyrics began quietly flowing from her.

"'You know you gotta help me out...Don't you put me on the back burner...You know you gotta help me out. You're gonna bring yourself down. You're gonna bring yourself down,'" she sang, at first to herself, then louder, as she finished preparing breakfast.

"'I got soul, but I'm not a soldier. I got soul, but I'm not a soldier...'"

He could not fight the smirk that overtook his face. Upon seeing his expression, she stopped for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"You're _something_," he told her.

"God, I haven't heard that song in years. And yet, it's still so true," she joked, raising a slice of strawberry to his lips. He accepted the fruit, and the fingertips that held it. Both were sweet, feeding two forms of hunger.

.

The days passed slowly through old movies on the large television, accidental naps, small meals, and deeper exploration of the kitchen cabinets. Vincent left for a few hours every other day, bringing back clothing for the both of them, foods that seemed exotic to Aria, and some choice toiletries. She could not help but be amused that he went out of his way to find all-natural cleansers for his skin. His latest findings included a rare fruit that they both decided tasted poisonous, and a small bouquet of lilacs.

What she did not realize was that he only left when Jenova targeted him. When he looked to Aria and found Lucrecia, he calmly, coolly found a reason to leave and soothe his nerves. He concentrated on his memories of Aria while he was away, and never failed to find her waiting for him when he returned. As he concentrated more and more on the fact that Lucrecia was only an illusion, the trips became shorter and shorter. Jenova was losing its battle with Vincent.

Aria had tested her boundaries with Vincent throughout the week that followed, moving closer and closer to him, and found none. He welcomed the invasion of personal space with a frustrating bitter-sweetness lurking in the back of his mind. Being caught off guard had proven more difficult when there was no place to escape. On two separate occasions, he had opened his eyes in the dead of night and found Lucrecia sleeping peacefully beside him. The first night, a familiar searing pain shot through his chest, and remained until he succumbed to a restless sleep. The second night, he saw through the ache, took a deep breath, brushed the light brown hair from her face, and closed his eyes tightly, reminding himself that she was only an illusion.

.

Six days after the second injection, another afternoon disappeared to a classic silent film on television. The sun descended, tired of the lazy day. By nightfall, Aria lay entwined in Vincent's arms, her back to his stomach, his legs on either side of her own, her head on his chest.

As the black and white film ended, she craned her neck to check on her companion, and found him in the middle of another nap. His breathing was slow; his chest rose and fell only slightly. A dark lash line sealed his closed eyes. The sleep was peaceful, as evident by his marble-smooth features. Watching him sleep brought memories of lying with him on the night of the Harvest to the surface of her mind. She recalled pulling the tan shirt away from his skin, revealing his own unique map of scars, and her smile broadened. He breathed in deeply, turning his head slightly, displaying the sharp angles of his jaw line. Suddenly, she recalled tasting cool, smooth skin on Tifa's couch, then nibbling at it in Tifa's guest room. Her blood seemed to warm as a blush rose in her cheeks. She could not help but realize how much time had passed since that night. She remembered cutting his shirt off and laughed softly, her hand covering her mouth instantly to suppress the reaction. Despite the sudden sense of need that these vivid memories inspired, Aria could not quite bring herself to drag him back to consciousness yet. Instead, she slid out of his light embrace and headed for the bathroom.

While allowing her shower water to heat, Aria examined her fading tattoos. The black Ancient symbols on her leg had lightened to a gray. Her wings were nearly gone. Turning her back to the mirror, she twisted to look at the remains of her phoenix. It, too, had lightened significantly, drawing the eye more toward her metal shoulder blade. The stark, intrusive piece throbbed as she stared at it, the now-constant ache increasing with her attention. She sighed, stretched her shoulder as much as possible, and returned her focus to her vanishing tattoos. At first, she swallowed hard, sad to see her artwork go. After some careful inspection, though, she noticed how smooth her skin had become. Without the regular sun exposure she was accustomed to, it had also lightened in tone. In the artificial light of the bathroom, she seemed to glow, her dark hair a stark contrast to her snowy skin. Her scars, too, had lightened, some disappearing altogether. Her only notable flaw was the dark circles that had somehow formed under her eyes. She had slept well, but upon touching the sallow skin just above her cheekbones, a strange sensation of craving came over her. Reality slipped away momentarily as she concentrated on the hunger that seemed to emanate from her bones. The lights flickered and snapped her back to her reflection. Outside of her dark eyes, the rest of her body glimmered. Choosing to view her changes as a positive fresh start over a loss of personal artwork, she proceeded with a much-welcome hot shower.


	26. Confessional

She had scrubbed her nails, shaved her legs, and towel dried her hair as much as possible, all while reminding herself that she, Aria Marx, was an able, confident woman. The words fell flatly from her whispering lips as she hung her towel back on the silver rod. Her fingers drifted over the black towel that Vincent had used hours before.

She had thought through every possible situation, every scenario that could await her on the other side of the door. Her plan was set. She looked once more in the mirror, pinched her cheeks for a light blush, licked her lips, and tousled her hair. It was the dim glow in her darkened eyes that finally solidified her confidence. Biting her bottom lip, she switched off the light, turned back to the door, and pulled it open.

Vincent had awoken, and sat up on the couch, half-watching the television. The sound of the door swinging open caused him to turn off the set and stand.

"I think we should consider heading," he turned to face her and stopped dead in his tracks.

Aria stood across the room from him, wearing nothing but a smirk. He did not know what to say. They watched each other for a painfully long moment, searching for signs in one another's eyes. Finally, she exhaled, and walked into the bedroom.

As he entered the dark room, he did not need a lamp to see what awaited him. Aria lay on top of the white comforter, her right leg slightly bent. He wasted no time closing the distance between them, resting his left knee on the edge of the bed and leaning over her, an arm on each side of her wild mane of damp hair. Her lips were warm and dry, inviting him into a kiss that deepened quickly. She allowed his tongue past her lips, gracefully bending to his will. He was pleasantly surprised.

Gone was the dominating, aggressive woman he had encountered months before. In her place was a softer, warmer, though equally bold Aria. She pulled gently at his clothing while he explored the sweet warmth behind her lips. Knowing she was unarmed, he eased into her nimble fingers. Easily, this time, she unclasped the three buckles at his collar, exposing his neck. Her fingers then snaked around the bared skin and into his hair, pulling at the ever-present red fabric headband. While freeing his hair, she sat up, and he sat down on the bed. Her legs bent to her side, propelling her up onto her knees. More forcefully, she pressed her lips into his. Their teeth clashed as they fought for dominance of the kiss, drawing out a quiet, throaty laugh from Aria that sent chills down Vincent's spine. As she pulled open his shirt, her lips traveled the length of his neck slowly, lingering long enough for her to taste every inch of his skin.

"I've thought a lot about that night, you know" she said huskily into his neck. He knew which night, and replied by running his hand through her damp hair.

"It wasn't right," she continued in between languid kisses across his throat. He breathed deeply, blood rising in his cheeks for the second time under her attention.

"I mean, we both got what we wanted, but..." she said, her voice lowering to a hot whisper against his skin, "you deserve better. I was selfish. I'll make it up to you." He was not sure if her words were a promise or a warning, but either way, he found them intoxicating.

Seconds later, his shirt lay strewn across the floor as his body lay strewn across the bed. She had showered the smooth skin of his neck in kisses and light nibbles, and moved on to his chest, where her tongue ran lightly along every scar she could find. At each end of each fine line, her lips met his sensitive skin, sealing the sentiment. This was no fight for control, but a much more personal affair. His right hand rested on the warm skin of her back as he allowed his head to fall back on the bed for a moment. His eyes closed as he sighed heavily, enjoying her affection.

After several minutes of exploring his torso, Aria's fingers delicately unbuckled his heavy pants and pulled them away. After dropping the clothing on the floor, she placed her knee on the edge of the bed and slid her body up his own as she leaned in for another electrifying kiss. His pelvis bucked slowly underneath her as his hands ran the length of her bare sides, then he pulled her in tighter against him. In this moment, as he relived the sound of Reno shooting her legs, the smell of her blood in the snow, the sight of her crawling and clawing her way to him, he felt as though he could not be close enough to her. The realization of his true cause for staying with her, the fact that he had fallen deeply in love with this woman, and that she was physically returning his affections pulled the breath from his lungs.

She gently nipped at the skin at the crook of his neck, her hair falling over his chest. His right hand ran through the length of it smoothly. He opened his eyes, looking at the thick hair in his hand as she began moving back down his stomach. His body tensed. Silver.

Without the strength to look at the changed form on top of him, Vincent let his head fall back and squeezed his eyes closed, praying to uncountable gods that Jenova would let them have this moment.

Sharp teeth scraped against his hip bone as his last remaining garment was pulled away. Upon raising his head once more, he found a sight far more disturbing than Lucrecia. Sephiroth looked up the length of his body with seductively hooded eyes and a dangerous smirk. Vincent's already speeding heart felt as though it would explode, panic rising in his blood.

_This is an illusion. Aria is right there. This is only an illusion,_ became his mantra. He could not fight the groan that escaped his throat as a tongue slowly dragged up his length.

"_Vincent...I hope you're grounded enough to handle this."_ Cloud's words replayed tauntingly in his head. Another glance downward found the same terrifying figure's left hand gripping his hip while the right languidly pumped him. He throbbed; his body betrayed his eyes.

The torturous pleasure continued while he focused intently on breaking through the illusion. With his eyes closed tightly, he brought up every image of Aria he could possibly remember. They flooded in: _Grey Haus_, the Harvest, standing in his makeshift apartment in Edge, Nibel Cave, Tifa's bar, Tifa's guest room, saying goodbye in Gongaga, Costa del Sol, ritualistically pacing the Forgotten City, fearlessly watching Chaos emerge in the snow...

He pieced her back together with memories of her voice.

"'_I got soul, but I'm not a soldier.'" _

"_I don't know how to not be running."_

"_I'm taking on my new role...as guardian."_

"_Stay with me tonight."_

"_You've been awfully quiet..."_

"_Maybe...you were overcome with some animal need...to protect what's yours."_

"_Why are you helping me?"_

"_So, you've seen me. Think you can even compare?"_

"_Survival." _

"_Think of me dancing my ass off under the midnight moon."_

"_I'm a Turk."_

"_This seat taken?"_

His mind was saturated with her. His thoughts had no room for anything else. When he opened his eyes again, bright lavender orbs sparkled back at him.  
>Tension gone from his body and replaced with a dangerous mixture of confidence and lust, he pulled her higher up onto the bed and traded positions.<br>His hair then spread out over her stomach as his tongue traced memories of scars, now perfectly smoothed over. He lightly sank his teeth into her ribs, causing her to laugh and writhe underneath him. The sound of her laughter was musical, and curled his lips upward. He repeated the gesture at her protruding hip bone, eliciting another writhing bout of laughter. The laughter quickly lowered into sensual hisses and sighs as he centralized his playful licks and nips.

Aria's back arched as his hands ran smoothly down the inside of her thighs, one soft and human, the other mechanically cold. They then slid up her sides, leaving light marks on her skin. Her right hand guided his left up the center of her chest, then slowly across her neck, sharp fingers splayed around her throat, his golden index finger leading up to her chin. The cool metal against her hot skin sent a shiver through her. Feeling her reaction, Vincent tried to pull his hand away, but she held it tighter. It glittered against her skin in the dim light.

The hand was not devoid of all feeling. He sensed the smoothness of her skin, and felt the warmth of her mouth as her lips closed around the wicked length of his finger. A wave of foreign emotion, purified desire, passed through him at the sight. The fleeting feeling returned with a vengeance: he had, indeed, met his match.  
>In love, Aria had proven just as emotionally distant as the man was now daring to line himself up with her. She had loved her time with him. She had loved his company, then his assistance, and eventually, his protection. She had constantly reminded herself that she was alone in the world, and could not risk giving herself over to the wrong person. Unlike Vincent's fateful past, Aria's had left her with no one to force her toward the light. Instead, the light came to her.<p>

He sank gently into her, their bodies making the ultimate connection. She closed her eyes, and swam in the bliss of his control. Memories of her own came to light, flashing quickly behind her eyelids: Looking down the barrel of his pistol at _Grey Haus_, the light pressure of his forehead leaning into her kiss at the Harvest, his allowance of her face painting, the feeling of his fingers in her hair at Nibel Cave, the feeling of his claws scratching down her metal shoulder blade in need, giving up months of his life to shadow her in the Forgotten City, stepping in front of Reno's gun, letting Chaos take over, the surprising allowance of her resting on him only hours ago.

As she came closer and closer to the unavoidable truth, her arms wrapped under his and around his back, pulling him tightly against her. Each thrust drew breath from her that now landed perfectly at the base of his neck, sending electricity down his spine. He rested his elbows on either side of her chest, his hands tangling in her hair in an attempt to be even closer to her. Listening to his ragged breathing and occasionally musical groans, his voice played for her by memory again:

"_You're incredible." _

"_You carry on. Day by day, you wait patiently..."_

"_I'm so sorry I let this happen."_

"_I'm just here."_

"_What do you want me to do?" _

"_We both know you can take care of yourself."_

"_You're strong... but you're only one person."_

"_You're decorated."_

"_Survival."_

"_You seem to be quite the hero around here."_

"_How do you know my name?" _

Caught up in the intensity of her memories and the overwhelmingly pleasurable movements of his hips, she whispered his name with each loss of breath. The sound of it both weakened him and drove him mad. He raised his torso again and looked down into her violet eyes. She raised her hand to push obsidian hair from his face and reveal his own striking features. His eyebrows were slightly drawn, both in pleasure and an unnameable sensation. She bit her bottom lip, feeling the same mixture of ecstasy and fear. As they watched each other's faces, in this single moment, they each saw identical rarities in the other: vulnerability.

A smile broke out on her lips and she pulled him back down, kissing him wildly. Her long legs wrapped around his waist, his skin still cool against her own.

The heat of her skin drawing him in tested his control. The moment she dug her nails into his back, he could hold onto his few remaining inhibitions no longer. His eyes flashed yellow as his body crashed into hers. Welcoming the intensity, Aria arched her back involuntarily, her arms raising over her head on the bed.

Vincent buried his face against her neck, baring his teeth against her skin, his mind disconnected, clouded, animalistically under the control of his body. He felt her tensing underneath him, no longer whispering his name, but baring her own teeth to the ceiling, her chest rising and remaining high for several blissful moments while her body froze underneath.

His pace quickened still, adrenaline transforming the pain of their bones crashing together into pleasure. A wave of warmth washed over him, followed by genuine rapture, and a blinding euphoria.

His muscles weakened instantly, but he refused to collapse on top of her, his shoulders trembling as he held himself up. Still catching her breath, Aria saw his struggle and smiled just before pulling him down on top of her, allowing him to relax. He melted onto her, his form easily adopting the shape of her curves while they both came back to reality together.

As his breathing regularized, she turned her face into his hair, nuzzling the top of his head.

"Vincent..." she started, her voice still low and raspy. "I don't want to be a cliche...but I think..."

"I'm in love with you, Aria" he told her neck bluntly, taking the uncomfortable first step for her. She laughed at his surprisingly factual and yet relaxed tone.

"...I'm in love with you, too. So, so hopelessly."

He slid off to her left side and lay on his back. She curled in on him, resting her head on his chest, tracing scars lazily with her fingertips. His left hand rested at his side, opposite of her. She reached across his stomach and pulled it up onto his chest, where she intertwined her slender fingers with his metal ones. He looked down at that image for several moments, a smile fighting for control of his features. The potential smile lost out to her steady breathing, softly drawing him into sleep.


	27. Stasis

The following morning started just as it had exactly a week before. Vincent awoke to the sound of Aria and the Shinra-assigned doctor talking in the kitchen. After dressing himself in clean clothes and quickly combing through his hair, he emerged into the daylight just in time to hear, "That's it. Everything we had. I hope you realize what a task it was, compacting it all for you."

"I do, Rufus," she replied evenly, closely watching the full vial sitting on the table. Her dark eyes lit up at the sight of Vincent entering the room. She slid out a kitchen chair for him with her foot. Dark circles drew his attention to her eyes before he sat, Rufus on his left, Aria on his right, and the doctor directly across.

"Mr. Valentine, good morning," Rufus greeted too nicely. "Your old friend is just outside the door if you want to say hello." The warning of Reno's presence was poorly veiled.

"Rufus," was his only response.

"We've just finished the..._treatments_. She's absolutely riddled with Jenova. I love what it's done with her, don't you? All those ghastly, ruffian tattoos replaced with glowing, clean skin. It makes perfect sense, if you consider the lab tests. Before we had to re-compact all of your samples, they showed remarkable regeneration abilities, among other things..."

Tension ran through Vincent's neck. This information felt invasive.

The doctor chimed in. "Any changes from yesterday? How is your shoulder?"

"Still tight, a little sore. It's only bad when I concentrate on it, really."

"I see. You've been denied for another surgery," his eyes flitted quickly to and from Rufus, "but I can look into some other therapeutic options if the pain becomes too severe."

"She'll be alright. She's a fighter, right?" Rufus interjected, causing Vincent to bristle again. Aria nodded sarcastically, her eyes never leaving the vial.

"Well, let's get this over with, shall we?" she suggested.

"Actually, we have a surprise for you," Rufus responded. "The tracker has been completed, and it's all yours."

This drew her eyes from the vial and locked them onto the blond man sitting across from her.

"You're serious," she stated more than asked. No emotion passed through Vincent. He had expected nothing less.

"Completely. You can't honestly think we're going to risk another Sephiroth situation. With you, of all people? I mean, you may have sold me _this _crock, but truly, how stupid do you think I am?"

Aria took a deep breath at the edge his voice had taken.

"It will monitor your vitals, temperature, heart rate, blood pressure. It will tell us where you are, anywhere on any continent, at any time. The technology is quite innovative."

"That's what I was told about this piece on my back, and it's never felt more barbaric."

Rufus ignored the retort and continued. "It will be implanted subdermally into your arm. The procedure is quick, the tracker is small, you won't even notice. And afterward, you're free...in a sense, I suppose."

While he spoke, the doctor pulled a set of boxes from his large black bag. Vincent watched intently as the man opened the smallest box and removed a black electronic tracker the size of a large coin, followed by a scalpel, medical thread, tape, a wickedly curved needle, and iodine.

"Which arm?" the doctor asked coldly. Aria's eyes flew back and forth between the tracker and the surgical instruments before a deep sigh left her body and her left arm rested palm-up on the table.

Vincent stood, stepping around to her right side. He knelt in front of her as her body turned away from the table and the doctor began rubbing iodine on the inside of her arm. She watched the mechanical movement of doctor as he cleaned her skin and sorted through his instruments for the scalpel. Her breathing became shallow and quick with panic. Just before the scalpel met her skin, two cool fingers touched her chin and turned her head. She faced Vincent, staring intensely into his eyes, focusing on the feel of his fingers on her face. He stared back, wordlessly distracting her from the table.

Rufus, on the other hand, watched as the blade separated her skin, and silvery metallic blood flooded to the surface. His eyes widened at the fluid, as did the doctor's, but they intently kept on. The small tracker slid easily under the pliable layer of skin, Rufus's eyes never leaving the device.

Meanwhile, dark violet eyes burned into red. She did not blink, though her brows drew together while her teeth bit into her bottom lip, painting the pain all over her face. The urge to end half of lives in the room flooded through Vincent in waves as he watched her face contort in a frenzy of emotions flashing between dread, hope, agony, and fury.

"The hard part is over. The device is in place," the doctor finally announced.

He removed his forceps from her arm and reached for his suture needle. The emotion on her face faded into blankness. Rufus stretched his arm across the table and held the doctor's wrist in place. Concern flashed across the man's features, to which Rufus slowly shook his head.

"I'd like to see those cells in action..." he explained smoothly.

This broke Vincent's eyes away and drew them to the President. He stood, towering over the table.

"This isn't a game, Rufus. Close the incision," he commanded lowly. From the corner of his eye he saw Aria's shoulders raise in an involuntary shiver.

"You think you're a hero. Prove it," Rufus spat at Aria, standing at his side of the table. The doctor looked frantically back and forth between the men, then focused on Aria. She focused on no one, but stared blankly ahead. Vincent instinctively grasped at his right hip, only to grab the fabric of his pants. Rufus chuckled and pulled a golden pistol from underneath his white jacket, aiming it at Vincent.

"Now, Valentine, you've gone and made this uncomfortable," he chided.

"Sir, this kind of incision...it's quite deep to be left..." the doctor quietly suggested. Rufus aimed the Buntline at his head in return. Vincent caught a glimpse of a dark substance on his wrist before turning his eyes back to Aria.

"You'll leave it," Rufus ordered. His gaze shifted back to Aria, whose eyes had gone distant, as if she were watching a separate dimension. Her jaw had slackened, the skin under her eyes dark and hollow.

"What's wrong with her?" Rufus asked sharply.

"I'm not exactly sure, Sir," the doctor answered, staring at his slipping patient.

Vincent placed a hand on each of her cheeks, forcing her to face him. "Aria? Say something..."

Her neck tensed and relaxed, chills running through her. Under his hands, she began to sweat. The doctor grabbed a penlight and stepped in front of her, edging Vincent out. As the light shone into her eyes, her pupils remained wide and unseeing. He lightly slapped her cheek.

"Aria? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me," he said loudly, grabbing her right hand. It was limp in his grip.

"Well, she's not dying, is she? I was hoping to see this healing..." Rufus said coldly, holstering his new gun.

As soon as he finished the question, her eyes squeezed closed, her jaw clenched, and a muffled scream sounded from her throat as she doubled over in her chair, her arms wrapping around her chest, silvery blood smearing on her skin as the incision bled under her rapid movement. Vincent swept in again, protectively placing himself between her writhing form and the other men.

At the tortured yell, the front door had swung open and Reno briskly entered the kitchen, on guard.

"Holy shit..." he said under his breath, taking in the sight before him. "What the hell happened?"

Rufus shook his head, his eyes on her as he reached his fingers into the silver on the table. While the rest watched Aria's convulsions, he spread a thin layer of blood over his right wrist before lowering his sleeve and returning his attention to Aria. Deep, raspy breaths filled her lungs, her back rising and falling with each one, her face hidden in her hair, just hovering above her knees.

"What is this?" Reno asked, dipping his fingers in the small metallic pool on the table. With no answer to be heard, he looked back at Aria and saw the same liquid covering her left arm and spread onto her clothes.

"Oh, fuck!" he exclaimed, wiping his hand on his pants. As he inspected his hand, Aria raised her head, her breathing regularized. Vincent held her face again, waiting for her eyes to open. When they finally did, his own breath caught in his throat. Her irises had lightened to a whitish shade of silver. Reno stared, entranced by every aspect of her current state.

"Aria..." he tested, calling her name softly, while the other men watched with wide eyes. Her head jerked into a tilt, then back again, in bird-like motions. Her shoulders shrugged repeatedly, her neck rigid.

"Aria...talk to me..." Vincent repeated, the three other men no longer in the room, as far as he was concerned. His thumbs ran along her cheek bones as he searched for her in the silver eyes.

Rufus nudged Reno, then nodded at her arm. The incision had partially closed over the tracker. Reno shook his head in disbelief. Rufus nodded hopefully.

"What is happening to you? Talk to me..." Vincent said over the growing ache in his chest. Her breathing slowed, each breath more shallow than the rest until her chest did not move at all. Silvery eyes stared off as a statue into nothingness over Vincent's shoulder.

Finally, his concentration was broken by a two arms wrapping a tourniquet above her right elbow roughly. In seconds, the needle plunged into her vein, and the solution disappeared into her body.

The room went silent, the anticipation palpable. A clawed hand wrapped in her hair as she sat frozen, her torso leaning forward slightly like an abandoned doll. After a full minute, a deep gasp forced her spine to straighten. As oxygen filled her lungs, color rushed back into her eyes, returning them to their familiar purple shade. A sigh of gratitude escaped Vincent as he watched her come back to him. She fell against his chest, catching her breath in his arms.

"Stasis," the doctor diagnosed, packing up his equipment with an air of relief. "Jenova is divided and will never cease to attempt reuniting itself, I'm afraid. Just the nature of the beast."

"The Reunion," Vincent reminded Rufus.

"So, it was trying to take her over to get to that vial," Rufus surmised.

"Probably. The stress of the procedure on her body seems to have weakened her defenses enough for Jenova to get a...a sort of foothold on her. Once it started to fight for her body, all it wanted was to reunite with the cells on the table."

"And you just gave them to her." His tone was accusatory, demeaning. The doctor did not seem to mind.

"Mr. Shinra, I'm afraid you have to commit to one side or the other to understand this process. Either you believe this woman is incapable of the task she has taken on, which I remind you, if that were the case, she would be long dead by now; or you believe that her body is, in fact, designed to contain the remains of Jenova. If you believe the latter, then you must put a great deal of faith in this woman. Now, her body just fought your Jenova, your 'calamity from the skies,' for control..."

"...Something even your precious SOLDIERS could not do fifteen months ago," Vincent chimed in lowly.

The doctor continued, "and at the risk of letting Jenova take over, her body simply shut down, went into stasis. What further proof do you require that this process is working? Why should we not have gladly injected the remaining cells into such a capable vessel? Why continue to risk leaving them separated where someone less capable can get a hold of them?"

"How can you know it won't be stronger next time?" Rufus asked. Red eyes burned into his face.

"Next time? Are there more cells?" Vincent asked demandingly.

"What? No," he answered quickly. "Next time Jenova wants..._anything._"

"I do not mean to offend, but is that not why I just implanted a monitor? If she begins to lose control, we'll know. Her stats will go haywire again, and we'll see it coming. We'll end this whole thing, as was discussed," the doctor answered.

The room went quiet as Aria sat back up. She cleared her throat and took one more deep breath. "I'm fine."

Vincent was relieved to see that the darkness under her eyes had disappeared and she was fully in the room with him again.

"God, as much as I don't want to say this after what I just saw...you're free to go. Just remember our deal," Rufus explained, leading Reno toward the door, "if you make one move against us, or Edge, we'll tear you apart. And," he motioned at her left arm, "don't think we can't."

She smiled wryly at him. The doctor grabbed his bag and slipped out of the apartment behind Rufus.

"You should go see Highwind. Someone told me has a gift for you. For both of you. It will give our tracker a test, at least," Reno said as Rufus turned on his heels and disappeared into the hallway.

She looked at her arm, and ran her finger across the ghost of an incision line, not seeing Reno take a long last look at her, an expression of worry flashing across his face before he exited, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Where did you go?" Vincent asked, watching her pack all of her new belongings into paper shopping bags from the bed.

"Inward, I suppose. It was like fighting to stay awake. I just had this overwhelming urge to let go, to fall asleep, like it would be warm and comfortable. It got stronger and stronger, until I couldn't move anymore...Until I didn't want to."

"You didn't just stop moving. You stopped breathing."

Her eyebrows raised in surprise at the information, then narrowed in thought. "There must be a way to control it. I mean, as far as reuniting is concerned, I shouldn't have to worry, but Rufus was right. I should be able to control its urges, no matter what they are. There must be a weakness, a point of control...There is just too much about this that I still don't know."

He knew where she could gather endless amounts of knowledge on her subject, and sighed, disappointed in his inability to mention the wealth of information. _Surely she knows..._

She opened a wide dresser drawer and pulled out his holster. "You're missing something," she said, tossing it to him. He stood, wrapping the leather belts around his thigh. Her eyes were glued to his movements as he attached the holster to his leg, his fingers working the buckles with practiced ease. Just as smoothly, he leaned across the bed and pulled the Outsider from under his pillow.

"Wow. Of course," she remarked, snapping out of her trance and returning to her packing.

.

Hours later, as the sun was high in sky, the pair stood on Cid's front step, knocking on the door. It opened, and Shera stood on the other side.

"Oh, Vincent, it's good to see you in one piece!" she exclaimed, stepping out to hug him. He returned the gesture, still grateful for her surgical skills, and turned to Aria.

"This must be the special lady..." she surmised, looking Aria over.

"Aria, this is Shera, Shera, Aria Marx," Vincent introduced. Aria shook her hand warmly.

"Well, Cid will be thrilled you're here. He's so proud of his work..." she trailed, leading the pair through the house. Vincent set their bags on the kitchen chairs, and continued out the back door to the green yard.

"Well look what the cat dragged in!" Cid shouted from across the yard, leaning out of his garage to see the visitors.

Vincent raised his hand in greeting. Aria did the same, smiling at the pilot. He closed the distance and shook Vincent's hand, then turned to Aria and sighed.

"Here you are," he said, shaking his head. She nodded, and they hugged each other like old friends.

"Well, you two came at the right time. I'll be right back. Shera," he nodded for her to follow him into the garage, and they disappeared. Aria glanced to Vincent, who shrugged in response.

Then, around the corner of the garage came two familiar vehicles, one silver and black, the other entirely matte black. Aria raised her hand to her mouth in disbelief, tears welling in her eyes. She met Shera halfway and immediately began running her hand across the body of her bike.

"Cid...how did you...?" she asked, speechless. Vincent could not help but grin: less at his own gift, and more at her emotional response. What he knew that others did not was that this woman had lost everything she ever called her own in the last year, and to be given back such a personal belonging was monumental. All that she currently had had been given to her by Vincent or Shinra, but this single possession had been hers alone.

Before he could speak, two long arms wrapped around Cid's neck in a strong hug.

"Thank you," Aria said with deep gratitude. He returned the hug and patted her back.

"I figured y'all wouldn't be stuck in Edge forever. And I sure as hell wasn't taxi-ing your asses around."

"How did you know?" asked Vincent, now inspecting his own bike.

"A mutual friend hated to see those beauties go to waste up there in the snow," Cid answered.

"So where ya headed?" Cid asked as the pair attached borrowed backpacks to their torsos. They stood at the edge of town, preparing for a departure. Vincent looked to Aria for an answer while adjusting his cape.

"I was hoping to do some research. On Jenova..." she trailed. Cid caught Vincent stiffen at the idea. Red eyes looked straight ahead, emotionless. _Yes, she knows..._

"So not too far, then..." he trailed, watching Vincent for a more concrete response. Aria turned to face him as well.

"Would you like to stay and catch up?" she asked. "I can probably handle this trip on my own. You deserve a rest..."

"No."

"You're sure?"

"You know I've got room for ya," Cid offered.

"I'm going," Vincent responded sternly.

Cid sighed as they bade farewell and disappeared over the horizon, blending in with the mountains in the distance.

"Fuckin' masochist," he grunted, shaking his head in disbelief.


	28. Homecoming

As they rolled into Nibelheim, both of their heads turned toward Tifa's bar. A large sign had been posted in the window: "7th Heaven and Strife Delivery Service has Relocated! Come visit us in Edge, 777 Divinity Avenue." They were alone in the town, and headed for the darkest corner.

The bikes resting on the edge of the cobblestone street, Aria stepped up to the wrought iron gate leading to Shinra Manor and placed her hand on the rough metal. A single glance back at Vincent found him looking up at the mansion intently. His eyes lowered to hers and he nodded her on.

The gate creaked a loud protest as it swung open under the weight of her hand. Her eyes scanned the entrance; his slowly glazed over. The house seemed to draw her in while simultaneously pushing him away. As his steady stride crossed the threshold onto the property, a weight fell upon his chest that only grew with each step inward.

As expected, the front door opened easily. The mansion guarded itself with its reputation; no locks were needed. Vincent caught three villagers staring at the pair as they stepped into the structure. For a split second, he wished he was among them, on the outside, looking in.  
>"Have you been here before?" he asked as the massive door latched behind him.<br>"Inside? No..." she unknowingly lied. Her voice was soft, as though she feared disturbing the ghosts that undoubtedly resided in the structure. "It's..." Words failed her. The beauty of the manor was still just visible underneath the dust, cobwebs, and effects of years without care. That beauty was equally matched by a sense of dread that hung heavy in the air with a life of its own.  
>"Follow me," he said quietly, heading toward the central stairs.<p>

Moments later, they stood atop a spiral stone staircase leading to the basement.  
>"You can stay up here. I'll just go take a look around," she offered.<br>He narrowed his eyes at her, and continued leading her, down the long staircase. As he stepped off of the last step, his shoulders sank. She was three steps behind when he announced, "This is why I'm here."  
>Upon stepping off the last step and finally looking up, Aria gasped and jumped backward, grasping for a non-existent weapon, adrenaline coursing through her veins.<br>"What is _that?_" she said in a frightened whisper.  
>Before them, ten steps away, stood Ying and Yang, swaying slightly, struggling to stand still, and staring at Vincent.<br>"Don't be afraid. Relax your body," he said lowly, staring directly back at the two-headed creature. He slowly stepped forward, extending his left hand, lowering his head while keeping his eyes on the swaying heads. Moments later, as Aria watched, as relaxed as her terrified form would allow, he had reached the tall, creaking monstrosity, his hand still extended, palm up. A loud groan, nearly a roar, sounded through the dank corridor. Vincent remained. Finally, after a tense minute of staring into the faces of Ying and Yang, the creature bent forward at the waist and wrapped its massive arms around Vincent. He reached up and stroked its back with his right hand.  
>"Harmless."<br>"That thing could tear you to pieces," Aria said quietly, approaching slowly.  
>"If you approach the wrong way, they will kill you without a second thought. But only in self-defense. I believe they remember me," he said, pulling away from the creature. It rested its large, clawed hand on top of Aria's head. She shuddered underneath the touch.<p>

"There were two. Cloud and Tifa killed one before I..." he trailed, his memory finishing the thought for him in stark images.

"What else lives in here?" she asked, tentatively touching the hand atop her head.  
>"Plenty," he answered, gently pulling the hand away. "But trust me, the worst things to ever walk these halls worked for Shinra."<p>

After Ying and Yang innocently wandered away, the pair continued, and quickly approached the door to the combined lab and library. She put her hand on his shoulder, knowing enough about this basement to understand the slowing of his pace.  
>"Go upstairs. I'll check things out and be right back up," she said.<br>"I'm fine," he stated bluntly, nodding her to turn the brass doorknob. She did, and pushed open the heavy wooden door, leaning her entire body into it, and inadvertently falling into the dark laboratory. The stench of formaldehyde and mako burned in her nostrils as she groped along the wall for a light switch. Vincent's hand raised to the exact location of the switch, and flipped it. A buzzing sound shot through the air just before cool fluorescent bulbs flickered to life overhead.  
>Wanting to leave as soon as possible, Aria stepped through the lab quickly, heading to the hall of bookcases that lead to a once-luxurious office. Vincent remained in the lab, running his fingers across the tables, the mako tanks, the long-dead computers. He crossed in front of a mirror and stopped short. The reflection showed a man with healthy, sun-kissed skin, short, stylish hair, warm brown eyes. He shook his head dismissively and stepped away to follow Aria. <em>This place...<em>

He found her sitting on the floor, already surrounded by journals, scientific textbooks, and scribbled notes on wrinkled paper. She was glowing with excitement as her eyes flew across the pages. At his entrance, she looked up briefly, then returned to her reading. She did not know that in the moment she had looked up, he had once again seen Lucrecia, energized and excitedly buzzing in her lab coat over a pile of books.  
>"Vincent," her head shook as she spoke, "there is...so much information. I can't <em>believe<em> how much research has been documented. It's crazy, but...I feel like it was all here for _me_. So I could find it, learn from it, you know? So I could carry this out properly..."  
>He closed his eyes briefly, waiting for the sting in his chest to subside. As he opened them again to Aria, he shrugged, nodded in response, and scanned the overwhelming number of books on the dusty shelves. She had misspoken. She would not be right back up. Already, the dungeon of a library had consumed her, and would only release her once she knew every detail of Jenova. He had heard that such a thing had happened once before.<p>

Hours before, he had left her to the basement, returning to the rest of the house to examine its changes. They were few. He could still navigate the enormous structure with ease. He wound up in the kitchen, where he had been sitting for half an hour before he realized the fate to which he had potentially resigned himself. So easily he had followed her into this house, where he would likely stay for months while she researched the cells that now inhabited her body. So easily he had signed more of his life over to this mansion. So easily she had turned from him to those books.  
>As he tested the large bronze faucet, he attempted optimism. Perhaps she would be quick. Perhaps she would at least leave the basement to eat and sleep. Perhaps the whole place would set ablaze and he would be done with it. Pipes moaned as the faucet attempted to spout water. His hand slammed the handle back into place. Optimism did not suit him.<br>She did return, eventually, and found him in the greenhouse, sitting amongst shriveled brown skeletons draping from pots and boxes.  
>Her eyes flew around the mess that surrounded the window seat on which he perched.<p>

"This is...grim," she commented, pulling him from his thoughts. "Let's go."

Her command surprised him. He stood, furrowing his brow.

"We're not sleeping here with your friends. There's an inn right down the street," she said, answering the question on his face.

.

As he lay in the large bed, Aria peacefully asleep at his side, his thoughts kept dragging him back into the mansion. The cycle of images repeated in his mind: stepping through the front door, the spiral staircase, the laboratory lights flickering on, the man looking back at him in the mirror, Lucrecia sitting on the floor surrounded by books. By the time Aria awoke the next morning, he had still not slept. They ate breakfast at the inn before heading back to Shinra Manor. She disappeared into the basement, he chose a room and settled in. They met at sunset in the greenhouse, returned to the inn, and he slept. A pattern emerged quickly. He slept every other night; in the sleepless ones, he lost himself in hazy memories and Aria's light, rhythmic breathing.

They spoke of her few findings over meals. Occasionally, she mentioned the horrors that her injections prevented. Rebirths, remnant reunions, a loss of the entire population to Geostigma. These conversations always ended in trailed thoughts and unspoken skepticism, as if life seemed dangerously easy, and they were both waiting for the next catastrophe. Routinely, they attempted positivity by pointing out that she had been successful thus far in her new role as planetary guardian.

They wrapped themselves in one another's arms at night in the safety of the rented room. Each morning, she stretched her arms and mentioned the pain in her shoulder blade. He offered to call a doctor; she refused. The pattern repeated itself. A week passed. Her body adjusted to the constant suppression of Jenova. The illusions became rarer, and eventually ended altogether. Even with the welcome consistency in her appearance, Vincent began to spend most of the days outside. By the end of the third week, he waited for her at the gate, having successfully edged himself out of the house altogether.

What he missed in doing so was Aria's quiet descent into memories of her own. Alone in that dark library, filling her head with notes of Jenova experiments, she had fallen victim to the dangers lurking in the dark corners of her imagination. While reading on the stone floor, she felt footsteps vibrating in her bare feet. She heard a familiar deep voice talking in the laboratory that caused her throat to tighten. Once, at the end of a long day of reading, she closed a dusty book on her lap and froze at the sight of a tattooed "1" on her left hand, just below her thumb. A full minute of closing her eyes was enough to make it vanish as easily as it appeared. The mansion clawed at her mind, and yet she was drawn to the library, knowing that something in that very room, in the very books she was reading, changed Sephiroth from a devoted General to the madman he'd been at his death, and that same something could turn her from a plain, disconnected woman into a planetary savior. Still, she was human. Upon finding a single silver hair on the back of the ancient desk chair, she stood, staring at the strand in her palm for half an hour before reality swept her back to the present. That particular evening she was on edge and silent, frustrated by the fact that she was still so consumed by a dead man's will, when a man who had risked his life more than once for her sake sat quietly across from her, willingly allowing her to be as consumed as necessary. After the last lamp had gone out that night, they made love silently, desperately clawing at one another, each touching and tasting as much of the other in mutual need, for different reasons.

Summer ended quietly in Nibelheim as green leaves faded into ghosts of their springtime selves. Autumn sank into place slowly, as Aria's understanding of Jenova's power sank into place in her consciousness. As she accepted every new potential fate that her role could bring, the environment changed around her. The day she embraced disfigurement, the leaves turned yellow. With potential paralysis came oranges. As death at the hands of Shinra crystallized, reds prevailed. The day the lab notes verified what the planet had told her, that reanimation may be possible with enough cells and a strong enough body, the leaves gave up their hold entirely. Such a fight seemed hopeless. Luckily, she thought, it would not be a problem. She had come in just in time. Relief washed over her as she slid the last of the dark leatherbound lab books back into place.

Vincent had roamed the area, the radius of his wandering increasing each week. As the leaves freed themselves from the trees, he came back upon the entrance to Nibel Cave. Swallowing hard, he stepped inside.

Lucrecia still stood in her mako crystal tomb, drawing him in just as powerfully as she ever did. He lowered himself to the cold stone ground and watched her motionless face as images of the mansion ran through his mind. He could only imagine what Aria was finding, what her research process looked like, what tricks the place played with her mind. He considered how much time she had spent in that basement, and was surprised that she had said nothing of illusions. Perhaps she was stronger of mind, he thought. Perhaps she simply kept the mental attacks to herself. Most of all, though, he thought of the planet's three words.

Vincent's thoughts twisted the words into images. As Guardian, he recalled her fearlessness: leaping from a third-story window with a bullet in her back; devising and carrying out a devastating attack on Shinra employees; and the story she was unaware that he knew: her walking away from the Nibel Reactor suicide mission as a Turk. With "Metamorphosis," he saw the changes she had already undergone: the drastically increased healing ability; the thick, metallic blood; stasis. He pulled his cloak around him as he shook that thought away. The one that replaced it was no more comforting.

"Transience," stuck like a splinter in his mind as he stared up at Lucrecia.

"She's too young," he said to himself. His thoughts countered him. _She's older than Lucrecia was. Older than Aeris. Older than you were..._

"Twenty-nine is too young," he said, as images of her frozen figure in the apartment flashed in his mind. To fight away the startling image, he closed his eyes, but her cold, silvery ones burned in his memory. He sought distraction in the crystal, but upon opening his eyes, found himself unconsciously standing and walking toward the encasement. Inside, where the scientist once stood, was a frightening rendition of his current lover. Her eyes sent a chill down his spine as the whites had turned black, the irises, cold and platinum. They bore through the crystal in a furious glare. Her teeth were bared, sharp canines extending past their usual length. An involuntary blink returned Lucrecia before he could take in any more details of his imagined Aria.

With a deep breath and a final glance at the crystal, he left the cave, walking toward the sunset. As he crossed back into the town, he felt a presence behind him.

"Vincent?" a familiar voice called. It was so familiar that it caused Vincent to draw his gun as he turned and faced it, aiming just below the fiery red hairline.

"What do you want?" he asked, lowering the gun at seeing his pursuer unarmed, but keeping the weapon in hand.

A heavy sigh fell from Reno before he spoke again. "You're the last person I wanted to come to, first of all. Just know that."

"I share the sentiment."

"But...we need help." The words fell with his chest, in defeat.

"We?"

"The disease, Geostigma. It's hit Edge. People are dying."

"And how is Rufus holding up?" he asked darkly, his eyes narrowing at the Turk.

Reno's jaw dropped slightly, his shoulders straightening in surprise. "How did you know?" At the silence that was his response, Reno continued. "He has it, of course. He knew he was sick when Marx came back to Edge. He didn't know what it was until a month ago, and it's...getting worse. We have what's left of our research department working on a cure, and making no progress."

As Reno spoke, the men walked toward the mansion. They reached the gate and he stopped in his tracks. Vincent turned, holding the gate open.

"No, thanks," Reno said, raising his hands in protest. "I'm not going near that place. I was hoping you could maybe...bring her out. Let's have a drink. I'll buy. See you at the pub." With that, he turned and walked back toward the town, leaving Vincent to retrieve Aria.


	29. Call to Action

While Vincent begrudgingly listened to Reno in the streets above, the basement of Shinra Manor produced more bait for its victim. In a hidden drawer at the bottom of a tall bookcase, Aria had uncovered a series of journals written in an elegant, practiced script, and a briefcase-size gun case with "V. Valentine" engraved just under its handle. She gathered them from the library and took them into the lab, where the lighting was brighter. Unthinkingly, she laid them out on the stainless steel table and perched herself on the far end, her legs dangling off the edge as she rested the case on her lap and ran her fingers over the combination dials. After a series of unsuccessful attempts at the lock, she set the case on the table and began progressing through another woman's frantically-scribbled lab notes. Graphic details emerged about a series of experiments and surgeries performed on a lean, 27 year-old male subject. Her chest burned as she read through the horrific operations, her heart in her throat as images surfaced from the strictly scientific notes. Desperate attempts to keep a dying body alive led to recollections of research on the Chaos Weapon led to scrawlings in the margins of questions and answers in varying colors of ink. Her eyes glued to the notebook, she found herself reading aloud the same repeated lines every few pages.

"Soul wrought of terra corrupt, quelling impurity..."

"Aria?"

She leapt from her perch as if caught red-handed. The journal fell closed on the table behind her. Vincent stepped into the lab and touched her arm gently.

"I didn't intend to frighten you," he apologized. She smiled and shook her head dismissively.

"Too much time in these dark corridors. Makes me jumpy. I'm done here," she said, waving off the pile of books on the table, secretly wanting to take each one with her.

"You have a visitor waiting at the pub," he informed her as they walked down the dark hall toward the stairs.

Her list of contacts was short, leading her quickly to a conclusion. "I suppose it was only a matter of time before they came to make sure I wasn't getting into any trouble."

"Are you?" he asked, his eyes forward when she glanced up at him.

"I hope not. I'm getting tired of trouble."

"I've grown rather weary of it myself," he replied.

.

The pub cook shouted a warm welcome to the couple as they entered the old building. Aria greeted him in return, asking about a dog. Vincent knew not of the origins of these questions, but basked in the warmth that she seemed to bring to strangers. A line of men sat at the bar watching an old muted television. A small family sat at table in the center of the room. Aria did not have to look far for her visitor, who had taken an unsurprising position at the back corner of the pub. He unnecessarily raised his hand for their attention.

The pair slid into the side of the rounded booth seat opposite Reno.

"So? What have I done?" she asked dryly.

"Still making a habit of befriending chefs?" he asked in response to her brief conversation with the cook. She shrugged and Reno turned to Vincent.

"She always did that. Always talked nice to anyone who touched her food, from master chefs to short order cooks," he explained. "I could listen to her talk to a cook for hours, and probably did once."

"Okay, I get it. We're friends again, now, right? What do you want?" she asked more directly.

Reno's smile faded as his fingers wrapped around his coffee mug. For a long moment, he stared into the dark drink, gathering his courage to say what needed to be said.

"Rufus is sick. Geostigma has hit Edge with a vengeance. People are dying."

"Rufus has it? _Now_ you care," she noted accusingly.

Reno sighed in expected frustration, and tightened his grip on his mug. "Look, can we just _not_ be bitchy for _one_ conversation?"

Her head tilted as her eyes widened in disbelief. Vincent suppressed an amused grin as he predicted the words that came next.

"You fucking _shot_ me."

The family turned toward the corner table and back again.

"He shot me, and we're able to talk like civilized adults," Reno countered, pointing at Vincent. "Hell, he shot you, too, and you two got along like a house on fire!"

Aria rolled her eyes; Vincent nodded factually.

"Alright. Rufus is sick. And?" she asked, pushing him to his point.

"And...I think you can help. Not just him. Everyone," he suggested. "But you have to swear not to get mad when I tell you about the mistake that was made."

"Requests and demands in the same breath?"

"You're not going to like it. I know you won't. But know that no one could talk him out of it, and he was a little misguided..."

She rolled her shoulders, bracing herself for the information, and winced at the motion.

"We know that Geostigma came about as a result of Meteorfall. The lifestream emerged to resist Meteor and flooded through Midgar. Some of that lifestream, we discovered, was tainted."

"With?" Vincent asked. It was Aria who answered.

"Jenova. Sephiroth's doing. There was nothing that could have prevented this. But I warned him. I told him it was coming."

"Yes you did. And as a result, he wanted to be prepared. He's trying to find a cure. There are dozens of doctors working for him as we speak. Whatever happened back in Edge, before your last injection, I feel like this disease is doing the same thing: Fighting against the body for control. Like maybe the Jenova cells are even stronger in Edge because they're trying to reunite with..."

"Where is he?" she asked, a sharp edge to her voice.

"Healin. The lodge on the outskirts," Reno answered as she stood.

Vincent stood at her side, watching lines form between her eyebrows as she thought, shaking her head slightly in disapproval of Rufus's actions. Her eyes lit up as images flashed through her mind. Reno sat up straight, sensing a plan.

"So...what does this mean?" he asked timidly.

"It means I can't stop a damn thing if he doesn't trust me."

"What is there to stop? Just the spread of the Stigma, right?...Right?" he asked, eyes darting between violet eyes and red.

"If he keeps those cells available, s_omeone_ is going to take advantage of them," she explained cryptically.

A shiver ran through Reno as Aria addressed Vincent.

"Go to Healin," she told him, her eyes still forward in thought, "and get what's left. Reno, I assume you know where it is."

"I wish I did. He has it tucked away somewhere. Rude and I have been searching," he answered apologetically.

"Then you have to find it. And get it out of Edge. Away from all those people."

"Where are you going?" Vincent asked.

"North."

"What's North?" Reno asked, finally standing up.

"The Forgotten City...and the Crater. Maybe a cure. Maybe a new crisis." Her eyes returned to Vincent.

Vincent sighed, then made a demand of his own. "Go to Johanna, get heavier clothing. Meet me at the gate."

"So help me if it gets back to Rufus that I came to you..." Reno threatened hollowly.

Aria bit her lip and looked back at the man who she knew lived for his job. He would have to risk dying for it, too, she thought. "There's not much we can do about that."

He sighed, knowing she was right.

.

While Aria visited Johanna's shop, Vincent returned to the mansion. The basement welcomed him back with a musty draught. The crack of electricity sounded and lights came on in the lab. On the table, where she had left it, rested the metal briefcase.

She had not noticed him staring at the case before he announced himself earlier. His chest had burned, his throat constricted, and she had no idea. As his fingers ran along the metallic edge of the case, he tried to recall the last time he had seen it. The closest memory he could conjure was unpacking it in the upstairs bedroom and sliding it underneath the bed. Lucrecia had disapproved of having such dangerous weapons in her work environment. He had not tried to justify his sidearm, but simply hid it underneath his jacket in her presence. Now the locks appeared rusted while the handle gleamed in the artificial light.

He raised the heavy case on its end and rolled the combination dials to 369, and listened for the signature click. The hinges squeaked from disuse as he raised the top half of the case and stared at the gun parts inside. His fingers assembled the weapon effortlessly, combining this piece with that, locking one end to another, until his hand was firmly gripping a dark black, foot-long, triple-barrel pistol. Warmth spread from his palm up his arm and into his chest, as if the gun was as glad to be held as he was to hold it once again.

Waiting at the iron gate, Vincent watched the town square for Aria. Reno, who had perched himself precariously atop the thick wooden fence, cleaned his fingernails with a pocketknife.

"She went into Armor Alliance," he explained without looking up. At Vincent's silence, he explained further, "The weapon shop. She'll probably be armed to the teeth when she finally comes back."

"I hope so," Vincent replied factually, causing Reno to pause.

"What's North?" the younger man repeated, hoping for a less cryptic answer.

Vincent thought about his response at great length before answering.

"You should know this," Vincent chided, thinking that he was never so uninformed during his days as a Turk. "The crater. Where Jenova first collided with the planet. Where her son was returned to it, with remnants of her inside of him. If an opportunity to reunite exists, it will inevitably be seized. Such is the nature of the organism. Rufus's refusal to hand over every free piece of the monster has resulted in just such an opportunity. Aria could have quieted the beast, but he did not allow it. Instead, it calls, like a beacon, monsters long dead back into our world, believing it vulnerable enough to overtake."

Reno leaned forward, entranced by the sound of Vincent's voice, hearing more of it in this explanation than he'd ever heard before.

"Monsters like?" the redhead trailed, afraid of the answer he knew was coming.  
>Vincent shot a disapproving glance at Reno, then returned his eyes forward. "Sephiroth."<br>"So that's the potential new crisis. And the cure in the Forgotten City? What's left up there?"  
>Vincent's eyes narrowed in thought, but he remained silent, unable to interpret her words in the pub.<br>A shiver ran through Reno's spine. He shook his head in disbelief, and with a half smile on his face, continued, "She'd already warned us. Back in the hospital, when we dragged her in from the snow, she said, 'He'll be back...one way or another.' Told us she was the only one who could protect us." He slid off the fence and stood next to Vincent, looking out into the town. "But what are the odds that anything has happened up there? I mean, our supply is pretty small, yo. He's only got the..." Reno trailed, swallowing uncomfortably at the thought crossing his mind. Vincent turned his head just slightly, anticipating the end of the thought.  
>"...head," Reno finally choked out. "That can't be so powerful, right? I mean, a vast majority of the remains are...you know, inside of her. Seems very unlikely that we'd be at risk for any...repeat appearances. I think we should just worry about the Geostigma."<br>"I want to share your optimism..." Vincent offered. Reno cocked his head to the side, waiting for the counterstatement. It came as a smirk overtook Vincent's expression, and his hand tightened on the butt of his old gun.

"...but I would rather be prepared."  
>Reno followed Vincent's amused gaze across the square to find Aria, fully armed, walking toward them. She wore black leather pants, knee-high combat boots, a fur-lined hooded black cloak that nearly brushed the ground behind her, a gray long-sleeved military turtleneck, and black leather gloves. Daggers strapped to the outside of each forearm glittered in the sun, while thin leather straps crossed diagonally in each direction over her chest, securing two twin blades to her back in an intimidating "X." Silver goggles rested just above her hairline, drawing Reno's attention and an appreciative nod. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, with loose tendrils haphazardly framing her face. Vincent could not help but notice how close she looked now to the woman he met in <em>Grey Haus<em> so long ago.  
>"You're staring," she accused, closing the distance.<br>"You've clearly made an impact, Valentine," Reno joked, comparing the black cloak to the red, the multiple blade holsters to those designed for guns. Vincent met her gaze.  
>"I'm sure you won't need it, but a bit of extra security cannot hurt," he explained, handing her the long pistol. She took it carefully, running her fingers along the barrel gently. As she examined the wooden grip, her eyes fell upon a small V burned inside a larger one on the bottom of the grip. Her mouth fell open slightly as she touched the letters.<br>"Was this...?"  
>He nodded. "It was mine. But you found it. You should have it. The barrels alternate firing. The triple cylinders allow for more ammunition, less downtime re-loading, faster firing rate..." He did not know how his eyes lit up as he talked about his former weapon.<br>"Vincent, this is...thank you," she said, wrapping her arms around him, despite Reno's gawking. As they pulled apart, Vincent began unbuckling his holster from his thigh.  
>"You'll need this, too," he added, handing over the leather belts. He watched her fingers closely as they attached the equipment to her leg. She slid the gun into place and straightened her shoulders, looking confidently back at the two men. Her skin glowed against the dark clothing.<br>"So, you go get those cells and bring them to me. Should have no trouble finding me, right?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at Reno and raising her left arm.  
>"Why the Forgotten City?" he asked in return. "What's the cure?"<br>She chuckled lowly, shaking her head. "Only the gods know if there is one. The only idea I can foster is to find the one thing that saved this planet in the first place...the white materia. And if there are any rumblings in the Crater, I'll be close enough to get there."  
>"Well," Reno began, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a black cell phone, "call us when you find that materia. Hopefully getting the remains out of Edge will be enough to slow the progression while we find a cure. And, gods, do I hope the materia <em>is<em> that cure."  
>She nodded, taking the offered phone.<br>"Be careful," Vincent told her, taking a more realist approach to the situation.  
>Aria smiled broadly. "Careful? Have you met me?"<br>Reno began walking toward the edge of the town, leaving the pair in privacy. Vincent glanced back at the mansion, then returned his eyes to hers.  
>"You know more about what could be coming than any of us. Are you truly prepared to fight for that specimen?" he asked, subconsciously directing the question inward.<br>She placed her gloved hands on each side of his face. "I have to."  
>With that, and a brief kiss on his forehead, she took off toward the mountains. He watched her fade into the valley, a black silhouette of boots, cape, and blades walking alongside her motorcycle. Underneath the cape, closer to her body, a piece of him went with her.<p> 


	30. The Force that Disconnects

"I think I'll stay out here."  
>Vincent glared at the redhead settling against the exterior wall of the Healin Lodge. The look in his eyes spoke for him, and Reno straightened his back and pulled the heavy door open.<br>The interior was dark, the ceiling lights off, heavy panels pulled over the wall of windows opposite the door. Vincent's eyes adjusted quickly, spotting Rude sitting on the black couch at the right wall.  
>"Hasn't come out yet," the quiet man offered.<br>Vincent eyed the door that shared a wall with the couch. His eyes again spoke for him: _"Are you going to get him, or should I?"_ Rude jumped up and acted as though he were heading for the door, knowing that Reno would step in and take his place. He did, sighing heavily as he slipped through the door.  
>Just as quickly, he returned, defeat on his face. "He says he's not seeing anyone," Reno explained, leaning his head toward Vincent in such a way as to give him permission to take over. He only winced slightly as the door slammed against its hinges when Vincent stormed through.<br>In the darkness of the room, Vincent saw Rufus sitting in a large bed with blankets pulled up to his stomach. Surprise overtook the president's features as the intimidating man commanded the room.  
>"Where is it?" Vincent demanded, his voice frighteningly gruff in his frustration with the man.<br>"What the hell are you doing in here?" he called out, reaching instinctively for the golden gun on his bedside table. Vincent was much faster, but waited for Rufus to wrap his fingers around the butt of the gun so he could pry them off with his metal ones. The exchange happened so quickly that Rufus was dumbfounded, holding his sliced fingers in his left hand, staring up the barrel of the Buntline into burning red eyes.  
>Vincent did not repeat the question, but waited instead for an answer.<br>"It was only a matter of time, I suppose," Rufus finally said, smoothness back in his voice. Vincent kept his gun on him and tore open the heavy curtains covering the floor-to-ceiling windows of the bedroom. Rufus cowered under the light, unprepared to be examined.  
>"Should I spend the bullet, or will you die by nightfall?" Vincent asked, surprising Rufus with the harshness of his tone.<br>"Reno!" the president called out.  
>Without turning from Rufus, Vincent kicked the door closed with a slam.<p>

"They won't save you. Answer me." Vincent glared at Rufus, surprised at how far the disease had progressed. The skin of his right arm was charcoal black from his shoulder to his wrist. Underneath Rufus's white t-shirt Vincent could see blackness spreading up his shoulders to his neck.

"Where is she?" Rufus asked tiredly, an eyebrow arched in disinterest.  
>"North. Looking for the white materia; for a cure. She's trying to save your people...and you. Why are you making it harder?"<br>Rufus coughed a laugh. "There is no cure up there. White materia will make no difference. I've had my people working on this for months." His eyes narrowed in thought. "The remains have been...destroyed."  
>"You're lying." Rufus's eyebrows raised and fell quickly at this immediate response.<br>"Maybe. It doesn't matter. You'll be too distracted to find out," he answered, casually reaching for a cell phone on his nightstand. "Do you know what this disease does to a person? It eats away from the inside, turning even your own thoughts against you. These patches, this skin...it's an unhealing wound. As though my body is so busy fighting those damn Jenova cells that it simply cannot be bothered to heal the infection taking over my skin..." He held down a single button; the phone dialed a set number.  
>"...and undoubtedly wreaking havoc on your mind," Vincent interrupted, finished the man's thought. Rufus grinned in response.<br>"Perhaps. But in this striking moment of clarity, I realized... you two have been right this whole time. Marx really is our savior. With those injections, she gained an incredibly valuable ability."  
>Vincent's stomach dropped, sensing the coming words.<br>"Her body heals itself remarkably well, with unparalleled speed. All of my studies have pointed to this very solution. _If_ there is a cure, it is not in Jenova. It lies in Jenova's natural antithesis."  
>Vincent shook his head and sighed. "You're a fool. You're in love with the chase, aren't you? She's armed, Shinra. She would shred you. And who are you going to send? Your pet came to <em>us.<em> Even he knows you're mad. Tell me where you've left the specimen," he growled through clenched teeth.  
>Rufus laughed.<br>"Gods, you _aren't _a Turk anymore..." Rufus replied coyly. Red eyes set alight with fury, patience long gone with the man's games.

.

The Forgotten City remained as it had been left. White trees lined the pathway into the abandoned village, the forest barren of wildlife, as if even Nature had turned quietly away. Violet eyes surveyed the village, matching what stood in reality with what stood in her memory. A sense of warmth rushed through her as the setting pulled her bike in toward the temple. She lowered her hood, letting it fall against the back of her flowing cloak.

As she approached the temple, Aria's fingers thoughtlessly drifted across the butt of her gifted gun. They tightened on the weapon as her eyes caught a large black motorcycle abandoned just outside the temple entrance. She propped her bike on its kickstand, eyeing the large vehicle. Intrigued by the unique machine, she inspected it closely, admiring the dual front wheels, running her fingers along multiple storage compartments. With the heel of her hand, she polished a smudge off of the brass accents at the rear. In her admiration of the bike, she deduced who to expect inside the temple.

"Hello?" she called upon entering the ancient structure. The only response was the echo of her own voice. She quickly made her way to the stairs and looked down into the natural cave below. From her position, the altar room appeared empty. Descending silently, and with her right hand fingering the blades strapped to her left forearm, she scanned the room as quickly as possible. Her nerves calmed slightly upon affirming her suspicions.

Beside the crystal blue pool of water, stretched out on the cool stone ground, lay Cloud, sleeping peacefully. Initially, she could not believe her eyes. He had changed since she had last seen him. He wore a deep blue turtleneck not unlike her own, save for its lack of sleeves. Attached to his left shoulder was a long black cloth. In his sleep, his arm had come uncovered from the attachment, and bent to rest on his stomach. His elbow had blackened with Geostigma. His face had aged, and even in his sleep, she noticed, he seemed exhausted, uneasy. To her own surprise, her throat tightened at the sight of him. She knew his age, and could only imagine what the disease was doing to him.

Aria approached quietly, kneeling on the ground beside him. She removed her gloves and watched as her left hand reached out and touched his affected arm. In eyeing his left arm, she had not minded his right, and was surprised as he gasped to consciousness, swinging a palmed blade at her. Instinctively, she jumped to her feet, drawing her twin blades on him. They faced each other under the altar, each trying to piece together what exactly had just happened, reeling from their powerful instincts.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"What do you want?" he asked simultaneously. She nodded at him to answer first.

"I was resting. I just finished a day of deliveries around Bone Village."

She re-sheathed her blades and unclasped her cloak, removing it and her shoulder holsters in one smooth motion. "I'm on a recovery mission."

"It's been a while. I hardly recognized you," Cloud admitted, lowering his weapon as well.

"I could say the same for you. How are you feeling?" she asked. He avoided the question.

"What is there to recover here? This place is abandoned," he said, clearly attempting to protect the temple.

"I know. I also know that Geostigma is getting worse."

His eyes lowered, breaking contact with hers.

"I'm hoping to find a cure. If Holy protected us from Meteor by drawing up lifestream, then maybe we can call on it again. Maybe it can draw out the tainted lifestream somehow. I don't know..." As she spoke, a sense of hopelessness washed over her. She struggled to finish her thought, to explain what she planned to do with the white materia once she found it. Cloud looked up again, trying to meet her gaze, but now she avoided him.

"It's...a big leap of faith," she admitted.

He nodded. "You seem to move in leaps of faith."

She smiled at the comment. Her smile fell as he continued.

"The white materia, or something like it, has probably been tried, anyway. Rumors are spreading around Edge that Shinra scientists-"

"-are working on a cure," she finished for him. "I know. That's why I'm alone."

He exhaled an amused grunt, walked over to a large rock formation, and sat. "And here I thought Vincent had regained his senses and run for the hills."

She rolled her eyes with a grin. "Please. I'm not a monster. I'm a safe. Jenova is locked up inside me with nowhere to go. I don't even get any special powers."

"You heal quickly."

Her eyes locked onto him in an intense glare. "How did you know that?"

He shrugged. "Rumors."

"You're working for them again. Reno and Rude sent you out to do their dirty work," she accused, gripping the handle of a small blade in each hand, her arms crossed over one another.

Cloud laughed softly and shook his head. "You're paranoid. I'm not working for anyone but myself. Delivery boy, remember?"

"How could I forget? You sang the same song on the beach a year ago."

He nodded. "Good point. I'm not working for anyone, though. I have no interest in anything you're doing up here. But I can tell you, you won't find the white materia."

"This is the last place it was seen, isn't it? It must be here."

He shook his head. "You couldn't use it even if you had it." As he spoke, lines formed between his eyebrows. "None of us could. We're only human."

She had no response. Her eyes lowered to the ground.

"So," he continued, "what's plan B?"

Her mind raced, refusing to accept that she was lost.

He chuckled a low laugh. "So, even you don't know what to do. Save us, Guardian," he mocked.

At this, she met his eyes with heat. "Excuse me? At least I'm trying. I'm capable, and I'm doing what I can to make a difference. I'm not taking a fucking nap after my tough day as a _delivery boy._"

Before she could reply, the ground vibrated beneath them, sending a low rumble through the temple. They each bent their knees for stability, watching one another through the quake. Within seconds, the ground went still. Cloud watched dislocated dust fall from the natural nooks of the structure. When he looked back to Aria, her eyes had gone distant, a faint sadness coloring them a dark violet.

"What do you know about _that?_" he asked, reading into her expression. She took a deep breath, brushing stray hairs from her face.

"I hope you aren't giving up." She watched the ground as she spoke.

He stepped toward her at her change of tone. The sudden distance in her eyes concerned him.

"There is no battle to be fought. I can't just persevere my way out of this disease. I've come to terms with it. I appreciate your concern, but I just want to be at peace before it takes me," he explained, reaching his hand out to touch her. As his palm closed on her shoulder, the skin of his left arm seemed to catch fire, stinging him to the bone. His vision blurred momentarily as he gasped in pain. Gritting his teeth, his vision cleared in a single brief instant. In that moment, he saw Aria standing in front of him, her hood up and casting a shadow over her face, three shadowy figures standing around her back. In the shadow of the hood, blue-green feline eyes snapped open and narrowed at him just before he came back to reality. He jerked his hand away from her arm and hid it underneath the long black fabric. She met his eyes with a knowing gaze.

"And when there _is_ a battle to fight?" she asked. He sighed heavily.

"I'm going home. I know I've spent too much time up here alone when I start letting you talk me into joining a make-believe war," he said, walking past her toward the temple's entrance.

"Rest, Cloud," she said in return. What went unsaid caused him to pause before shaking his head and walking out. Seconds later, the roar of an engine filled the cavernous temple, and Aria was alone.

She gazed into the water and watched as ripples danced along its surface. Her reflection startled her, as bright eyes stared back from pure ivory skin. _Gaia, guide me..._

With another heavy sigh, the white materia, and any hope that had been placed in its power, was abandoned. It was replaced with a heavy, begrudgingly anticipated draw to the north, a sense of ill-preparedness, and a sad longing for a supportive glance from red, red eyes.

.

Rufus smugly smirked under the pressure of the golden pistol against his temple.  
>"Mr. Valentine, who do you think <em>sent<em> for you? I figured one, if not both of you would come running at the mention of more cells. I admit, I had no idea it would be such an easy sell."  
>"It does not take much persuasion for me to believe you are insane enough to take such a risk." The pressure increased.<br>"Risk? No, no. _If_ we had any cells left, we would hand them over immediately. I want her running at optimum performance. Her body has had time to adjust to the foreign matter. Her immune system will be flawless. We'll simply re-create her DNA in our labs, and use her healing powers to cure the Stigma...or at least its unfortunate symptoms."  
>"And what will happen to her in the process?" Vincent asked, unthinkingly indulging the younger man.<br>"Well, once all of the Jenova cells are safe inside her bloodstream, she'll simply be destroyed. Destroy the vessel, destroy its contents. Jenova is a threat no more," he said proudly, with a flourish of his right hand. "And she lives without lifestream, so she can't return to ours once she's dead, which means no re-contamination. Edge, and the planet, is safe. Shinra saves the day. Everyone wins. The planet is saved and Marx gets to be the hero she so longs to be." Heat ran through Vincent's veins as he processed Rufus's flawless logic. He could not stop a fleeting thought from crossing his mind: _If he's right, thousands of lives could be saved...I should let this happen..._

"Anyway, I'm sure you'll want to try to interfere. You always do. So, if you must know, Tseng and Elena are already in the air. I'd get running, if I were you. Hope your age hasn't slowed you down." A broad smile stretched his closed lips, igniting in Vincent an overwhelming desire to watch him suffer.

In his mind, with striking clarity, Vincent saw himself digging his weight on one knee into the top of Rufus's thigh, grabbing the blond's hair with his right hand and jerking his head back. He visualized Rufus crying out, only for a golden claw to puncture the skin of his cheek and slowly drag the wound open, slicing his mouth open as far as possible.  
>"Well?"<br>The voice brought Vincent back into the room, staring Rufus down. He was momentarily surprised by his gruesome imaginings, and revelled in the satisfaction such imagery brought him. He settled for connecting his metallic fist with the man's left eye with enough force to send him backward across the bed.

"Look, I'm sorry, Vince..." Reno started as soon as the door swung open. He reached out as the red cape flew past him. His mistake was rewarded with a crippling grip on his right bicep and long fingers closing in on his throat, holding him against the large window pane.  
>"I...didn't...want...to do...this..." Reno choked out, his vision blurring with lack of oxygen. Just as colors began swirling in his eyes, an electric jolt to Vincent's spine caused the grip to loosen. His eyes closed solely in irritation as he regained control of his fingers. Rude stood on guard behind him, armed with a small taser. The bald Turk had no chance to strike again before Vincent turned quickly, throwing his cape in Rude's face, blinding him. A metal fist struck his cheekbone, bringing him to the floor, his signature sunglasses cracked across the room.<br>The door slammed loudly behind Vincent as he furiously descended the stairs of the lodge, shaking his head in disbelieving frustration. Every tiny hair on the back of his neck stood on end, his fingers unconsciously curled into claws. Cid's voice played in his mind, reminding him, _"She can save herself."_ She had evaded the Turks before, he thought. _Tseng will not let it happen again._ He knew Aria better than any of them, having been responsible for much of her training. The thought only fueled Vincent's rage. His lips snarled as he began to run the long highway toward Edge. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. Lungs burning from the unexpected exertion, he pushed on, black hair flowing just above his cape, flowing behind him. He knew what needed to happen, and began drawing up images to push the process along. They came at random: Hojo's face hovering above him from the metal operating table; Rude and Elena firing bullets into Chaos from their helicopter; Rufus's smug grin; Aria lying in bloody snow; Sephiroth, the last time he saw him in the crater; Aria, walking away into the Nibel mountains; Sephiroth; Aria; Sephiroth.  
>When his eyes finally opened again, they were bright yellow, staring out from a black cloud. His new form took him out of the cloud quickly, leaving behind the lodge, humanity, and the ground itself as he took off like bullet into the darkening sky.<p>

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I apologize for the lapse in updates. A family emergency separated me from my muse, but we're back, and with a vengeance! Another huge thank-you to all of my readers &amp; reviewers. I hope you have not all wandered away!<p> 


	31. Monsters

Dense fog stifled her breathing, and she had only reached the top of the crater. Her bike could not safely take her any further, so it rested on its side at the top cliff. She stood only five steps away, her toes extending past the edge of the cliff, looking down into the crater. An indiscernible energy crackled through the air, putting her on edge as she tried to plan a route down into the darkness. Dull pain throbbed in her metallic shoulder, interrupting her concentration. Nausea rolled through her at the sight of the steep drop ahead of her.  
>"Why are you here?" she asked herself in a whisper. The harsh wind angrily pulled her voice away and into the crater.<br>"This is where you are needed. The planet has asked you here...through Reno." She rolled her eyes at the thought and corrected herself. "Through Jenova. You have a job to do. So...how do you do it?" she asked, leaning over the edge, finding no foothold. Just as she pulled back from the ledge, lightning crashed overhead, striking deep into the crater, momentarily deafening her.  
>When she finally opened her eyes again, the draw she had felt in the temple increased tenfold. She hugged her arms around herself and bit her top lip.<br>_Keep moving. Let the planet guide you..._she thought to herself, instinctively walking away from the cliff. Guidance came in the form of a familiar voice in her mind.  
>"You seem to move in leaps of faith," Cloud had told her. Aria turned and faced the edge, twenty steps away.<p>

_Well? Keep moving._

_.  
><em>

"Oh my god! Is she...?" Elena trailed in surprise, watching Aria from a higher ledge.

"You never worked with her, did you?" Tseng asked, his voice level as his eyes targeted Aria in the distance.

"No...I mean, I heard the stories, but I assumed they were colorful exaggerations..."

In the distance, Aria took a running start at the edge of the cliff. Tseng grunted, confirming his expectations.

"They weren't."

As Aria's feet left the ground, her arms spread like wings, Elena turned her head into Tseng's shoulder, covering her eyes.

"Okay," Tseng began, easily accepting what he had witnessed, "get the ropes." He stepped toward their own ledge, planning the repel.

"Tseng," Elena paused, gathering courage for the question dominating her thoughts, "Who do you believe? Honestly."

He did not answer.

"I mean, I know what's happening. I know the details. But, what if she's right? And we're on the wrong side of this? Can we really take her down so easily? She's one of our own."

"No," he bluntly replied, turning to face her. "She is not one of us. She burned that bridge. I believe in following orders. The president sent _us_ because he wants this finished."

"Well, he sent _you_ to get it done. He sent me to get me out of Edge," she noted, preparing her own repelling equipment.

"Elena, your compassion sets you apart, above even, in my eyes. So few of us have any trust left. I only wish you had the confidence to match."

"Easier said than done when I'm paired up with the next Legend," she replied, intending a compliment.

"I will _never_ take that title," he said in such a way that demanded no further inquiry.

Silently, they descended into the darkness of the crater.

. 

Dark, jagged rocks broke her fall, over one hundred feet from where she made her leap. The impact that would have easily killed her a year earlier was only a minor discomfort. A thin scratch bled lightly from above her eyebrow, where her face had connected with a sharp ledge. As she stood, her eyes fell upon the sight that inspired her earlier dread.

Along the far northern edge of the cave, three bright aquamarine strands of lifestream each enveloped a single form. Her reaction was still very human.

"Goddammit, Rufus...Goddammit..." she groaned, stepping up to the glowing forms.

The first appeared more built and mature than the others. His eyes, like the others, were closed, an expression of peace on his face. She recognized the body.

The second had much longer hair, with a more svelte figure and a softer face. His head was turned away from the others. She recognized the expression.

The third, placed in the middle, faced straight on, lips pulled into a snarl, long fingers drawn into fists, as though he was angry even in stasis. Heat radiated from the flowing lifestream. Her stomach tied in knots as she felt a long-dead mixture of protectiveness and endangerment rear its beautifully threatening head.

"What I would give to talk to you one more time. You, without the anger and the plotting and the vengeance. The man I knew at twenty-two. ...Not like this," she told the unconscious figures before her.

"So young..." she commented to herself. "What have you done?"

Her words echoed through the cavern. As it rounded sharp corners, it came back to her in a low, barely audible voice, whispering, "Why have you come?"

Her fingers reached for the grip of her new gun.

"I have to protect the planet. I'm sorry..." Again, her voice changed as it echoed back to her.

"I can give you this planet. Come to me," the low voice commanded.

Her feet carried her forward, though her hand gripped the gun tightly. "I can't let you back into this world. Please, please go rest. Go be at peace, for once."

Before she realized her action, her hand had raised the gun, and aimed it at the farthest, largest form. The temperature dropped by several degrees as a strong wind blew through the cave. Her breath came in shallow clouds as her cape danced behind her. With a powerful crash of lightning, three pairs of green eyes opened. 

His mind played cruel games as he took refuge in the body of Chaos. The flight was long and tedious, and to stay conscious, he chased the white rabbits of his imagination. He questioned his visions in the Nibel Cave. In one thought, he descended upon the crater to find Aria long dead, her torso stretched across the lap of a satisfied Sephiroth. In another, she had proven victorious, though changed into a form that rivaled his own demon. Each new image pushed his wings harder, propelling him closer and closer to the northern fog. As he darted through the cool sky, he wordlessly coaxed his monster into protecting Aria with as much dedication as he had. Chaos resisted the command, fighting for control of his precious time. The opposition drained his strength, yet adrenaline kept him soaring. 

"We've been waiting for you. He told us that one would come looking while the other went running."

"How long have you been here?"

"Seven days. Seems...appropriate, doesn't it?"

"So? What else did he tell you?" she asked, her eyes darting between the three figures languidly approaching her. Her fingers tightened on the gun, still raised at the middle man.

"One could help, one could harm," he replied, hair falling over half of his face. "He tried to recreate himself from the lifestream. But...he could not remember. He was so broken when he died, many of his memories died with him. I think I know which role you play," he explained, his voice smooth, but youthful.

"Mother?" the oldest appearing figure asked. The leader shook his head.

"Sister."

"I can't help you. I won't."

A quiet whimper sounded from the largest brother.

"Do not despair, Loz. Yazoo will persuade her," the middle figure announced. As though surprised to hear his name, the thin man in the back perked up with a look of disgust coloring his features.

As the young man stepped toward her, Aria felt her blood warm. A flush came across her face. With each of Yazoo's nearing steps her heart beat harder, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her eyes dilated; sudden dizziness overtook her. The dull ache in her shoulder intensified.

The leader placed his hand on Yazoo's shoulder, stopping him. Each young man watched in fascination as Aria's skin glowed beneath her layered clothing. Their presence ignited a foreign warmth in her that caused her eyes to lose focus.

Yazoo tilted his head in amusement as her lips curled back in an animalistic snarl. "I like her. I want to keep her, Kadaj."

"Perhaps," answered his counterpart.

A groan of pain escaped her tight throat. Loz stepped forward as her eyes closed tightly.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked. Kadaj shrugged with an amused smirk.

"She must not have been prepared to meet us. I believe we've inspired a change for the better..."

Yazoo ignored Kadaj's silent command and continued his approach. From two steps away, he heard the quiet sound of metal falling to the ground. As his eyes lowered, they widened at the silvery liquid dripping from the ring finger of her left arm. Following the heavy drops, he knelt, retrieving the small Shinra tracker from the pool below.

"What is that?" Loz asked, craning his neck to see around his brother's shoulder.

Yazoo simply shook his head, carelessly tossing the equipment over his shoulder. Kadaj caught it mid-air.

"Looks like someone is trying to keep up with you, Sister. But why?" As he spoke, he stepped forward, pushing Yazoo away. Frustrated with the lack of response, he grabbed her left arm and roughly tore the thin blade holster from her sleeve, forcing the fabric up her arm. A small hole on the inside of her arm was healing itself before his eyes. He laughed with delight.

"Yes...reject the artificial binds of your world. Be pure, as we are," he suggested, his young voice smooth with coaxing. He wiped the shining blood from her forehead and cupped her cheek.

"You have just what we need, Sister. Lean into us. We can make your surrender easy."

She remained unresponsive. Kadaj kept up his poisonous smile, and slowly wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into him.

"Why won't she talk to us?" Loz asked, shuffling forward. Kadaj ran his hand down her long braid.

"Ssh...we just have to be patient. She'll come around."

.

An hour passed, and the pair of Turks detached from their repelling equipment. Though neither admitted it, the descent had fallen far outside of their comfort ranges. With both feet happily on the ground, Elena crept through the damp fog of the cavernous crater. Tseng followed, pistol in-hand, eyes routinely scrutinizing every detail of their surroundings. They did not speak for the twenty minutes that they maneuvered the historically dangerous grounds.

Upon turning a blind corner, Elena jumped backward, drawing her own weapon and resting her back against the rock wall. Tseng spoke with his eyes, asking what she had seen. She leaned close to him, whispering.

"The path opens into a room. Three figures, and Marx. I'm sure it's her," she explained, her voice wavering with what she had witnessed.

Tseng grappled with the information, devising a new plan to deal with the unexpected visitors. He edged Elena back, leaning around the corner to survey the room.

Central to the light that had seeped downward through the fog stood two of the three men, looking down at the third, who sat on the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around Aria, her back to his chest. Her eyes remained closed, arms loosely hanging at her sides.

"Is she dead?" Elena whispered. Tseng shook his head, uncertain. His eyes flashed an emotion that Elena struggled to identify. Her attempt was cut off by his orders.

"Stay here. I'll work around to the other side. I don't trust the signal here, so at my first shot, you go in for the small, long-haired one. Keep your earpiece in...Backup should be on the way. I'll take the bigger one, leave the one with Marx, if possible." He paused, his eyes distant, working through the plan with which he was not pleased.

"If Marx is still alive...and you have to sacrifice her to save yourself...do it."

Elena nodded, and with that Tseng vanished, creeping along the edges of the room.

To plan her attack, she craned her neck around the corner again, and watched as her target knelt beside Aria's unresponsive form and unbraided her hair, pulling his fingers through long wavy lengths, dragging it over her shoulders to frame her face. Curiosity gnawed at her from within. She wanted desperately to know what had happened, why her former superior lay on the ground in the arms of a young man who looked so much like...

The tension in the air cracked violently with a sound that shook the small woman to the core. Instinctively, she lunged forward, but immediately jumped back into hiding upon realizing that she had not heard a gunshot, but an otherworldly screech from far above the cave.

. 

His chest burned with the exertion of the flight. The pain only fueled his fury. With each gasp, his vision blurred, bright yellow eyes struggling to focus. As the Northern Crater came into view, he ceased drawing up images of Aria for Chaos. From far above the cave, he separated himself from the beast, releasing internal reigns, placing immense trust in the demon and relying on their shared instincts to guide him. He whispered a prayer through sharp teeth before letting go and sinking into thick darkness.

. 

"Who do we have now?" Kadaj asked, looking up at the piercing screech, tightening his grip on Aria.

"I don't see anything..." Loz admitted, staring upward into hazy light.

"Did you send out an invitation?" Kadaj asked into Aria's ear. He began to stand, at first gently working around her, but quickly losing patience and dropping her to the ground. Her head hit the rocky ground roughly.

"I hope so. She's boring me," Yazoo said, needlessly cleaning his fingernails. Loz nodded.

The screech sounded again, drawing six green eyes upward. From the clouds emerged a blaze of red, sweeping in faster than anticipated, knocking Loz onto his back and disappearing into the cave.

.

Elena froze, her breath shallow in her chest. Instinct screamed at her to run, to claw her way back to the surface and swim across the sea to the mainland. The demonic screech sounded again, this time echoing painfully against the rock walls that closed her in with an indefinite number of monsters. Another peek around the corner found Loz struggling to stand, burns coloring his chest an angry pink. The skin at his waist swirled with black until a leather top formed, clinging to his skin. The others remained shirtless, silver hair barely contrasting against such light skin. Yazoo turned in circles, searching for the beast that had floored his brother.

She listened carefully, ears burning from the howls and relentless thunder. Finally, a single shot rang out in the cavern, and her legs flew her into the frenzy. Her speed caught Yazoo off guard, and she successfully tackled him to the ground. Only steps away, Tseng struggled in combat with Loz.

Yazoo tilted his head from underneath her and smirked in amusement just before throwing her across the rocky room, her back slamming not into the jagged rocks that awaited her, but instead the chest of a red-winged beast. Long arms wrapped around her and lifted her to a higher ledge, off of the main floor, before the figure vanished into the opposite end of the room.

Kadaj joined in Loz's fight against Tseng, leaving Aria lying unattended. While Yazoo took off for Elena, Chaos narrowed yellow eyes on Aria. The two met over her body, Chaos snarling at Yazoo from her right, Yazoo cocking an eyebrow to her left. With a bored sigh, the young man vanished into a far corner of the cave; Chaos did not follow. Instead, he stood over Aria, looking down at her while Tseng fought for his life only ten feet away. As he neared her body, her skin glowed white, emitting an unearthly glow. Thunder crashed overhead, and Chaos took a knee next to the figure with which Vincent had flooded his mind for the previous hour. A brassy claw reached for her arm, and upon contact, the cave filled with blinding white light and a shrill, piercing cry far higher than his own.

The brothers each turned toward the center of the room, panic obvious on Kadaj's face. In one rage-fueled swing, he knocked Tseng to the ground and bolted at Chaos.

"Get away from her! She's not yours!" His dash turned to a leap, and he tackled the beast away from Aria. In their separation, Chaos left Kadaj with four deep gashes across his bare chest, and an obviously broken arm. Instead of bleeding, the wounds covered themselves as blackness rose from his waist, clothing him with leather similar to Loz's. As the leather wrapped around his arm, the appendage righted itself with a soft snap.

The cave quieted as Chaos vanished and the brothers momentarily turned their backs on Tseng and Elena. The bright white light pulsated away. In its wake lay an altered woman.

From a high ledge, Chaos looked down at the result of his contact. Aria's skin remained an ethereal pale shade; her clothing, stripped of its dark color and now vibrant shades of ivory; her hair, still wavy from its braid, now pure white; her fingers ended in long, pointed white nails, those of her right hand still wrapped tightly around the grip of Vincent's gun. The skin at her right temple appeared cracked like porcelain from her fall from Kadaj's careless arms. From his perch several yards above, he watched her eyes. They fluttered, but remained closed. The trio below closed in on her.

"Now I _really_ want to keep her..." Yazoo commented, examining her pure white skin.

"Yes. She certainly has what we need..." Kadaj replied, kneeling next to her. "She is our mother's daughter... She will reunite us...with Sephiroth." He grabbed her wrist and attempted to dig his nails into her skin.

"Just a little more blood, Sister..." he coaxed, his nails unable to break her skin. He quickly became frantic, clawing at her unyielding arm. Within seconds he was reaching for a heavy rock to break across her face, now callous toward his frustrating prey.

"Stop," ordered a strong male voice, followed by the pulling back of a gun's hammer. The three brothers turned in unison toward Tseng and Elena, who each aimed pistols at the group. A helicopter came into view far above the crater.

"Come stop me yourself," Kadaj sneered back.

Tseng fired his gun; Kadaj easily dodged to safety. So began a new chase.

Elena fired three rounds, missing her targets each time as they slid fluidly toward her. Within the second, Loz made contact, sending her flying against a stone wall, this time, with no one to save her. Chaos was too busy making his own move.

With the trio distracted, he soared in at incredible speed and picked up Aria, vanishing with his prize into the sky. Kadaj screamed curses at the high fog, immediately taking his anger out on the two bodies that remained. They were helpless against the barrage that followed.


	32. Trust

The blackness warmed his cold bones, spreading soft heat through his body in liquid waves that sank him deeper and deeper. This unconsciousness was blissfully imageless, memories swept under a heavy, willing rug. He floated in the warm waters of nothingness for what felt like hours. Fingers curled and loosened; lines softened, vanishing from his face. Had it been death, he would have welcomed it with open arms. It was not.

A small, pinprick of light appeared in his empty utopia, sending a jolt through his relaxed mind. He fought it, turning his head away. The light followed. Soon after, it increased in size, accompanied by a low, incessant groan. Bliss turned to frustration. Turning his head sharply to the opposite side, he could not escape reality as it pulled him back into consciousness. A quiet cough forced his eyes unwillingly open. Red orbs stared at a white ceiling for a full minute while the rest of his body remained frozen, his mind in overdrive, trying to put together the events that brought him to his former residence in the Forgotten City. Another cough, and he bolted upright, finding himself atop the kitchen table in a crumpled heap. To his right, Tseng sat bent in a corner, bleeding profusely from a head wound. Elena lay on the floor beside him, wheezing each time she inhaled.

Vincent jumped to his feet and immediately cast a mastered Cure in his thoughtless frenzy. After the glow faded, he hoped their bodies were free of bullets, shrapnel, any foreign matter that they did not want permanently lodged inside of them. The Cure was sloppy, but stopped Elena's wheezing. She looked up at him with a flurry of emotion in her eyes. He recognized fear, but confused it with gratitude and lowered his guard. The small woman pulled her gun on him. He pulled it from her hand and shoved her back down onto the floor with a sharp glare of disapproval. She cowered against Tseng as he stood and turned his back on them.

Looking out into the rest of the small house, his confusion deepened. The little remaining furniture was torn apart; shredded curtains hung from rods above cracked and broken windows. In sets of four, wicked gouges ran along the clay walls. Just beside one particularly deep set, a small pool of silver liquid lay drying on the floor. He looked at his own left hand and found his fingertips coated in a fine white dust, his palm speckled with drops of silver. Woven between his fingers were three long, white hairs. He pulled them out and turned back to Elena, who had watched him closely. She nodded toward the door.

The damage continued outside. Burn marks scarred two white trees on the border of the small town. An exterior wall of the small house was cracked, as though a body had been thrown against it. His thoughts raced to piece together the events that caused such destruction. Just as he turned back toward the house, a glimmer of light caught his eye from the edge of the woods. His chest burned as he approached the pool of mercury on the ground. He kneeled in the liquid to retrieve the shining object: a metal plate, in its center, a single bullet. A heavy sigh pained his ribs. As his fingers closed on the metal prosthetic, his throat constricted.

"You can keep it."

He stood and turned in a single motion at the voice. Aria grinned, walking toward him from the direction of the temple. Her hair was dark, pulled back into a messy ponytail at her crown; her clothes, though back to their original dark colors, were destroyed, her right sleeve torn to shreds, holes decorating the legs of her pants.

As she approached, her arms extended and he slid easily into them. She smiled at the coolness of his face nestling into the crook of her neck and placed her hand on the back of his head. His left arm wrapped tightly around her waist; his right circled around her back, his hand in her hair.

"How do we always wind up here?" she asked into his neck. As he shook his head, a pool of welcome warmth similar to his unconsciousness slowly flooded his chest. His arms tightened around her. He considered never releasing her, keeping one hand on her for the rest of her life to avoid such treacherous separation. A smile crept up on him as he realized she would never allow it. Reality swept back in as she pulled away. He thought his arm released too easily.

"So...what happened?" she asked. "I woke up against a tree, and I don't even remember getting out of the crater. You came for me..." she trailed, expecting him to explain the damaged amongst which they now stood.

"Yes...I came for you...through Chaos. I had to move quickly." His eyes widened and narrowed as he recalled what his eyes had unknowingly seen. He gestured toward the house. "Tseng and Elena were after you." The factual tone in which he explained their presence drew a laugh from her.

"Of course they were," she said, shaking her head. At his silence, her smile faded quickly. "Are they...?"

"They're alive. Wounded."  
>"You saw...them." She bit her lip, watching his thoughts clear. After a long, still silence, he nodded.<br>"What are they?"  
>She sighed. "Exactly what you think they are. Broken pieces of him...trying to put themselves back together."<br>"They're coming." Vincent and Aria turned their heads sharply toward the door of the small house. Elena leaned haphazardly against the door frame, holding her side, face colored with hysteria.  
>"They'll just sit back like we did and watch you tear each other apart. And they'll walk off with the remains. You monsters will do all the work for them. And you'll be doing us a goddamn favor." She slid down the frame to sit, exhausted.<br>Aria looked back at Vincent, shaking her head in confusion. As Chaos silently told his story, Vincent did not meet her gaze.

.

"You...he... rescued us," Elena explained, still sitting on the floor, unwilling to move. Her eyes shifted from Vincent to Aria.

"And when we got back, you were awake. But you were different. It happened in the crater. You were all...white. It was so bright..."

"What happened, Elena?" Aria asked, becoming frustrated.

"You just went at him. You did that," she said, waving her hand toward the broken windows and furniture.

"And you did that," she told Vincent, referring to the claw marks and pool of blood. "Threw her against the wall outside. It sounded like she landed a few blows after, and it was over. She was gone. That's all I saw. You were... animals. There was no reasoning with either of you."

"Your shoulder," Vincent thought aloud. Aria shrugged, shaking her head.

"It's fine. It healed itself, forced the piece out."

"You're like them. That's why they want you. You're one of them," Elena accused. "You broke one of their arms," she cried, pointing at Vincent, then looking back to Aria, "and it just snapped back in place. Who can heal bones like that? You're one of them, aren't you?"

"What? No! Of course not! They were just created, Elena. They act under Sephiroth's will. I am not like them."

"They called you 'Sister.'" The words hung heavy in the air. Tseng finally raised his head, eyes clouded yet looking toward Aria. Vincent unconsciously took a half step away from her, brow furrowed in thought. Her eyes widened at the shift in atmosphere.

"I am NOT one of them!" she protested to no one and everyone.

"They certainly want what you have. How do you keep them from getting it?" Elena asked.

"You have to learn to control it," Vincent said distantly. His eyes finally focused, and he raised his head. "Finally...Something I'm familiar with. The planet chose you- gave you a body that can contain Jenova, and more importantly, protect it. Only you can keep the beast in. The same goes for keeping forces out. That is why you changed. Your body took over for you. Jenova wanted out, the trio wanted in, and you were simply not prepared for what your body would do to stop them. If you want to get rid of those remnants...you'll have to harness your strength. Letting it run wild has proven..." he looked around the small destroyed house, wincing as his neck cracked at the motion, "destructive."

"How do you know that?" Elena asked, skeptical. His eyes narrowed on her.

"Extensive research." The room chilled. He looked back toward Aria. "You'll not have nearly the time that I did. I hope you're a fast learner."

"She is." Vincent turned toward the voice, finding Tseng aiming a small pistol at Aria, who stared back with wide eyes. Instinctively, Vincent began to lunge forward, but, despite the pain it caused in his chest, he pulled back, allowing the bullet to leave the gun for her leg.

Her training kept her from screaming; her face said it all. Jaw clenched, teeth bared, her eyes widened further as her eyebrows gathered in confusion, betrayal. Her balance failed; she leaned against the back of the ruined couch.  
>A well-cast Bio turned her body against her. Elena could not help but grin as Tseng rested back against the wall after his spell.<br>Vincent's mind raced as he tried to think of a softer approach to this already-terrifying process. His stomach tied in knots as no other options came to mind.  
>"Go into the bedroom. Stay there," he commanded the Turks. As they disappeared into the back of the house, Vincent wrapped Aria's arm around his shoulder and led her outside. She shivered against his body, her vision blurring with dizziness, her stomach turning with nausea.<br>As they reached the center of the clearing in front of the house, he stood her in front of him and wrapped his left arm over her shoulder and across her chest, and his right around her stomach, holding her up and against his own cool body.  
>"Please trust me. I will not let anything happen to you."<p>

"I trust you," she groaned, her legs barely able to hold her.

"Hold my hand," he whispered into her ear. His chin rested on her right shoulder as her hand gripped his wrist.

"I know you're hurting. Stay with me. Stay focused on my voice, my hand in yours. Do not let go." He closed his burning eyes and swallowed down the guilt in his throat.

Her head fell back against his shoulder as his clawed fingers dug into her stomach, dragging four gouges open across her body.

"Do you feel a heat rising?" he asked, trying not to notice the silvery blood covering his golden fingers. She nodded, squeezing her eyes closed.

"Find the source. Let it build, but do not release control," he told her. She gripped his wrist tighter. The wounds on her stomach began closing themselves before he even pulled his hand away. He took this as an encouraging sign and continued the assault that pained them both.

The metal fingers raised to her neck, digging into the skin at the base of her jaw, causing him to shudder as the pale skin broke under the pressure. She cried out, jerking away instinctively. His arms held her tighter, the choking lump returning to his throat.

"Stay with me, Aria. Your body will want to take over," he said, his voice low and failing with her agony. He steadied himself against her trembling form, adjusting his hold on her. His right hand numbed as her grip intensified. His stomach turned to lead, knowing she had to be pushed further.

"Stay concentrated on that heat. It can only fill your body if you allow it. One finger, one arm at a time. Do not let go," he commanded.

She felt his lips move against her neck. She did not know that he had mouthed apologies.

Sharp teeth sank into the skin and muscle at the crook of her neck, and her knees gave away. One at a time, she let a liquid heat cover her toes, her feet, her ankles, legs, knees, thighs, until her body was unbearable hot from within. Her eyes remained closed as she concentrated on turning the pain to power.

His jaw popped painfully as he pulled his head away from her. He wiped the metallic blood on his shoulder, nauseated by how much of it had filled his mouth.

As he apologetically kissed her temple, low thunder rolled through the village. The sky darkened slowly as white clouds turned dark gray. While watching the sky, Vincent felt heat begin to radiate from the Aria's struggling body. Lowering his head to look at her face, he caught a glimpse of three men approaching from the city's main entrance.

"Gaia, give her a chance..." he muttered in frustration.

The trio came closer, grinning at the sight of Vincent holding Aria, seemingly against her will.

"What do we have here?" Kadaj asked from afar, tilting his head in interest. "Such dedication. You really love your planet...if you're willing to kill her to protect it. Honorable. But futile."

Aria jerked her head at the voice, her neck dripping with blood from healing wounds.

"Take deep breaths," Vincent told her, watching the trio from wet red eyes. His jaw clenched at the sight of their newly acquired weapons.

Kadaj nodded to Yazoo, who raised his gun at the pair. Their appearances were deceptive: Vincent's shoulders hunched to hold Aria upright, shortening his frame; Aria's blood-soaked clothes, bared teeth, and tightly closed eyes gave her the look of a woman on the brink of death. Only Vincent knew, from the heat coming off of her body, that she was truly about to come to life. A bronze bullet lodged into her right shoulder, just under Vincent's arm. Another propelled completely through her side and into Vincent's.

He closed his eyes, a sudden force pulling energy from his body. His arms shook with fatigue, his legs weakened below him. Leaning heavily on faith, he attributed the vacuum effect to Aria's transformation. Her skin began to glow under her torn clothes. Vincent fought to breathe, wanting desperately to collapse. He tightened his arms around her one last time, lining up his lips with her ear.

"Open your eyes."

He felt a crack in his right wrist.


	33. Reunion

Blinding light, singeing heat, and an invisible force of energy repelled him, pushing his little remaining breath from his lungs. His eyes readjusted quickly, and his shoulders relaxed into exhaustion. As he leaned against a white tree, a foreign feeling ricocheted around his mind: hope.

Initially, he was nothing but fascinated. He wanted to approach her, stare at her for however long it took to note every new detail. To feel threatened never crossed his mind in those first few seconds of wonderment. Despite the pain of his broken wrist, his fingers extended as he imagined running them through her snowy white hair. It was not silver, not tainted with darkness like the trio standing just before her. It had a smooth purity rivaled only by her hauntingly white skin. He wanted to look into the silver eyes of which he had only once caught a glimpse. The corner of his mouth curled upward as his primal, more violent instincts desired to see what kind of damage she could do. He wanted to witness this new creature's strength. But more than anything, he wanted to know if Aria was in control.

She craned her neck around her right shoulder to look at him. Her head tilted as if in confusion. Then, she grinned, half-smiling, half biting her bottom lip, inadvertently displaying animal canines that matched the white wickedness of her long fingernails. The sight of her expression nearly caused him to smile back. That devilish expression was purely Aria.

"So? This is your attempt to dissuade us? To send us back to the hell from whence we came? I'm sorry to tell you...it won't work," Kadaj spat.

"And you haven't even let me try." Vincent leaned forward, listening to her voice. It was clearer, somehow, as though even her vocal cords had been purified. Her words flowed like saline past her pale lips.

"I don't want to talk to you, Kadaj. I want to talk to _him_."

"Hand over Jenova, and that can be arranged," he coaxed in return.

Through a twisted smile, she replied, "Oh, we both know you could wake him up for a couple minutes..."

Her taunting tone amused Vincent. He watched her too closely to notice the dark bruising growing around his wrist, or the blood beginning to trickle down his side.

"And we both know that I could destroy this place, this town, that house, that...monster back there," he argued, nodding at Vincent, who grunted a laugh in response, "if you don't give us the cells. Shall I start with the house?" He raised a glowing palm toward the structure.

"There are more Jenova cells!" a meek voice called out from the house. "Rufus knows where they are!"

Vincent quickly imagined tearing Elena's throat from her small frame before focusing on Kadaj and his brothers.

Silver eyebrows raised. "Oh, really?" A grin spread across Kadaj's face.

"Let's go, then," Loz suggested eagerly.

"And when we get what we need elsewhere? When Sephiroth is back...what do you do then?" Kadaj asked sharply. "Has Gaia's savior become expendable so quickly?" He laughed with Loz. She watched on, preparing for a strike. As Kadaj tilted his head back in laughter, she made her move, surprising every man in her presence.

Her fingers dug sharply into the base of his neck, disappearing into his skin. At her forceful touch, his breath left his body; his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Vincent stepped forward, bracing for a fight. He watched in disbelief as Kadaj's figure grew and morphed under her hand. As his body changed, Loz and Yazoo quickly lost their strength and fell to the ground, unconscious. Within moments, Aria had her hand around Sephiroth's throat. When he finally opened his eyes, he grinned upon focusing on her face.

"Marx. I wondered if you would reach your potential. And here you are." His tone was characteristically patronizing. She did not seem to mind. Vincent's throat went dry at the scene unfolding in front of him. He wanted to draw his gun and knew he could not, for more reasons than one.

"And here I am," Aria replied in the same patronizing voice. They stared at each other for a long, heavy moment. The air between them stilled with tension and a familiarity that was at once welcome and torturous. History colored their views of each other. Catlike green eyes glimmered with a wealth of knowledge about the vibrant woman. With dark grins that mirrored one another, the complexity of their relationship was reborn. Vincent recognized the range of emotions flashing in the other man's eyes. In one moment, Sephiroth appeared ready to embrace her; the next, he could destroy her. The dynamic caused Vincent to grind his teeth.

Aria momentarily let the tension build, but the current circumstance soon came back into focus. She took a deep breath, hiding the pain his presence caused.

"You must wonder what I have learned in your absence."

"Enlighten me." He pulled at her hand, and found he could not separate himself from her. He instead wrapped his fingers around her wrist with enough pressure to crack her porcelain skin. She did not care. His opposite hand grabbed at her hair. He looked closely at the white locks in his fingers. Vincent bristled, unable to be the first to touch her new form.

"You can send your puppets after the president's cells. They just might find them. And if they do, you can make your comeback, and we'll all be so impressed, and you'll threaten us, try to take over...again...And you'll fail. Again."

He laughed an amused, belittling laugh. She kept on, her fingers tightening around his neck, the crack spreading up her arm to her elbow.

"You just aren't what you once were. You can get those few cells from Rufus, but you won't have half as much power as you did before. Because..." she leaned in closely to whisper the words, but Vincent still caught them, "guess who has the rest of it?"

His teeth flashed into another predatory smile.

"That's a beautiful coincidence, isn't it? The only woman I would ever allow to join me is the only woman that could ever stand in my way. You have what I need, Marx." His eyes darkened, his head tilted downward, silver hair framing his face. He knew what he was doing. Vincent felt his lip instinctively snarl, half at the use of such perverse persuasion, half for using it on Aria.

Sephiroth continued, a seductive undertone to his smooth voice.

"If you surrender this body, those cells, I can keep you alive forever. I can give you a planet on which to start anew, to rule with absolute supremacy. With me, you can be a goddess."

"And you, a god? My god?" Her eyes narrowed on him. His sparkled with madness.

"Something like that."

"Seven years ago, I might have truly considered your offer. You had such strength, of body _and_ mind, and your eyes...just _glowed_ with enthusiasm, excitement for your job. You wanted to do right by the planet, then, not destroy it. You loved life, and as aloof as you tried to be, you still lived to better the world for those who adored you."

Vincent could not see her face, but knew her brow was drawn in pain at experiencing her memories so violently clashing with the man that stood before her. He could not empathize.

"Beneath your cold facade, you were genuinely kind. And then...you slipped. You lost it, Sephiroth. You lost your few friends, your job, your title, your sanity. And I stood by, if you dare recall." Her fingers tightened on his throat, but he showed no sign of pain. "When you turned on the world, it turned on you. Everyone but me. Foolish, foolish me. My connection to you cost me dearly."

Vincent recalled the damage done to her reputation in Cosmo. He remembered holding the photographs of her murdered family. After a heavy pause, she continued.

"And to think, I alone was designed to counter you."

His smile broadened, then faded at her stern expression.

"You put on a good show, Marx, I'll give you that. But you can't possibly think you would win if it came to blows between us. You'd be a fool to think you could take me down."

"I don't have to."

Vincent leaned further forward, listening through the fog of his injuries.

"Your reputation precedes you. People will be prepared for you. You'll fall on the losing side of a fight that _you_ picked. If it's not with me, it will be someone else. Some other man, some other army. You will slip up. You will be only human without the rest of the cells. You will falter, and in that moment of weakness, and it _will_ come, you'll lose. I don't have to be the one to put the knife through your chest. As long as I'm around to keep you from the rest of Jenova, I've already stopped your heart."

Understanding tore Vincent violently from his haze. Aria had been defeating Sephiroth from the beginning, from the first injection of the cells. It did not matter that Rufus had allowed the remnants to be born. If the trio was not defeated, Sephiroth could be revived, but he would not be invincible. The world would be out for him, and someone would bring him down with finality. Vincent smirked, believing he knew who might be up for the job. Aria had been more of a guardian to Gaia than anyone had known. Sephiroth had already lost.

After slowly taking in this information, Sephiroth grinned, countering her heavy verbal blow.

"And what do you suppose will happen to you once I'm gone? You serve no purpose without me. We are two sides of the same coin. The planet made you to counter me. Without me, what's left of you?"

Aria shook her head, looking the tall man in the eye. "The planet made me to counter Jenova. Not her proxy." She pulled him in closer to her face, letting her final words cut like razors.

"You're...just a puppet."

A pained howl escaped Sephiroth as he lunged toward her, swinging a ghostly pale arm at her face. At the swing, she released his throat and shoved him backward, watching as he fell to his knees, black clouds swirling around him, breaking him back down into the three weaker brothers.

Within seconds, the brothers stood, and faced Aria once more. A pained expression mixed with confusion on Kadaj's face. She looked back coolly.

"He's angry with you," Kadaj said weakly, shaking his head maniacally. "He'll be back for you."

"I have my doubts."

Yazoo approached her and spoke lowly, a familiar madness in his eyes.

"This will not be as easy as you think. Your defiance will cost many lives. Are you prepared for that?"

Before she could answer, Yazoo raised his gun and fired three bullets at Vincent. Kadaj laughed from behind. Aria knocked the weapon from his hand and grabbed a fistfull of his hair, jerking his head backward against her chest. She grabbed a small blade from her forearm holster and pressed it against his neck. In this moment of safety, she looked back toward the white tree. Vincent had not needed her help. He was gone.

"Where is he?" Loz shouted, frantic to have his back on the man who resembled the demon that wreaked havoc in the northern crater.

Yazoo contorted in her arms, became a cloud of black vapors, and reappeared beside Kadaj. He raised his eyebrow at her as if to say, "See?"

She sighed, and rested her hand on the grip of Vincent's gun.


	34. Cracks

Vincent watched for a moment, predicting the coming maneuvers by the figures below. He reached for his gun and hissed as sharp pain radiated up his arm. Curses flooded his mind as he looked at the mangled appendage. It had to be set before he could cast a Cure, or it could be permanently weakened. It was not a risk he thought worth taking, especially when his own stash of materia called out to him, begging to be used.

Aria watched the three brothers closely, prepared for an attack. It came from Kadaj, who lunged toward her, his double-bladed sword drawn. Before he reached her, however, he was forced to the ground by a blast of flames at his back. She grinned, knowing Vincent's location.

Loz started to come to Kadaj's defense, but tripped to the ground as his feet became encased in ice. He whined from the ground, kicking his feet free in irritation. The trio suddenly appeared uneasy, shifting on their heels, eyeing her closely. They ducked quickly as a bolt of thunder ripped through the air above them, sending streaks of lightning down to their feet. In the crackling electric air, Aria sensed a shift in power coming. As the lightning died away, strong winds replaced it. Streaks of red flashed through the tense air overhead, and Aria relaxed her shoulders.

Vincent appeared beside her, his right arm hanging at his side, his left, alight with active materia. Aria pulled her gun. It shone in her hand, a clean black against white fingers that perfectly encircled the grip, putting just enough pressure on the trigger. The atmosphere turned, and they both felt it. Six green eyes widened, then narrowed in frustration. The predators became the prey.

"Can you keep up?" Vincent asked, a note of playfulness in his voice. It registered in her ears, and she smiled another wicked smile. Her eyebrow flashed an arch.

"Can you?" 

The pursuit neared entertaining, the Remnants attempting to flee the northern continent under a barrage of bullets and flames. Aria mimicked Vincent in propelling herself from tree trunk to tree trunk, racing her partner to connect with whichever brother fell farthest behind. She was remarkably fast, Vincent noticed. Even as they ran, he glanced over, hastily admiring the way the wind whipped through her hair before focusing again on his prey. He did not realize she was doing the same, and far more often. He did not feel her watching his own hair as it wildly caught on his cheekbones and slid away behind his ear; watching his eyes flash bright red with adrenaline; watching his cape hold onto his shoulders for dear life as his legs blurred black with speed. He did not realize she was on the verge of giddiness watching him let his wildness run free- and running wild with him.

The trio, on the other hand, grew more and more furious the farther they ran through the deep woods. Loz brought down trees to block the path; Vincent gracefully propelled Aria over them before leaping over them himself. Yazoo fired backward at them; Aria fired much more accurately at him, quickly shooting the gun from his hand. The dizzying chase continued far into the woods, until the three men came to a circular clearing. The ground was bare of grass, weeds, and any signs of life, fifty feet in diameter. Only dead branches covered the dirt ground. Kadaj stopped in his tracks, allowing his pursuers to catch up. He waved Yazoo and Loz on, and they vanished into the thick trees. Soon, the young man was facing expectant red and silver eyes. He smirked, but said nothing. Instead, he raised his arms over his head. As he forcefully brought them down, a black cloud encircled the clearing, swirling with menacing darkness. A low chuckle emanated from Kadaj, just before he disappeared through the clouds and into the woods. Thunder rolled by overhead as the clouds solidified into eight Shadowcreepers, all gnashing sharp teeth in between guttural growls.  
>Instinctively, the pair stood back-to-back, watching the demonic creatures take form.<p>

"What are these things?" Aria asked, genuinely surprised at the dark beasts.  
>"I cannot say..." Vincent raised his left hand, a flame dancing above his palm in anticipation. He extended his arm, and two of the monsters backed away.<br>"Whatever they may be, they seem averse to fire."  
>"That doesn't help me much..." Aria sighed, her gun raised, but changing targets every second as the beasts prowled around their prey.<br>"My memory must be better than yours..." Vincent replied lowly.  
>Grinding his teeth, he used his right hand to fish a bottle from his pocket. Slowly, he slid it into her left hand.<br>"X-Ether. Slowly pick up a branch," he ordered calmly, eyes fixed on the wicked animals. He felt her slide down his back in ever-so-slow motion, and eventually slide back up. His ears distinctly caught her pop the small cork from the bottle. The end of the branch came into his peripheral vision, and he set the dry wood alight with the flame in his palm. Her head tilted backward, resting on his shoulder. He could smell the forest in her hair. She breathed deeply, and whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.  
>"For you, Gaia." Her arm raised the bottle of X-Ether, filling her mouth with the potent liquid.<br>She raised her head, and performed the only magic she knew.

Flames roared from the pair in opposite directions, repelling the beasts, causing several to flee altogether. The three that remained gnashed at her as she tossed her spent torch toward them. Vincent turned, blasting two of them with fire spells from over her shoulder, pushing them back into the trees. The last and largest creature let out a spine-chilling howl before leaping at his back. Aria worked on adrenaline-fueled instinct to duck under his extended arm and bear the brunt of the attack with her right side. The two bodies connected with a deafening crash. The impact knocked the beast to the ground, presenting her the perfect opportunity to unload her gun into its stomach. Black blood sprayed from each bullet hole, contrasting on her white skin until the sound of the monster's cries died away. The woods fell stiflingly silent. She dropped to her knees. In a flash, Vincent was in front of her on one knee. Her chest rose and fell sharply as she fought for air.

"You should not have done that..." he said, looking her over. He struggled to hide his concern for her appearance.  
>"Yes...I should have..." she trailed, dropping her argument quickly. Her right hand dropped the gun and pressed against her ribs, causing an involuntary hiss. "I'm so tired..." she confessed, falling into a sitting position, her legs bent out to the side.<br>"You need to let go of this form now. You can't maintain this kind of power for long," he explained, avoiding her eyes, and instead inspecting her stony skin. His left index finger slid along the dark crack on her left arm: Sephiroth's calling card. She did not seem to notice.  
>"Does it hurt?" he asked, referring to her arm.<br>She shook her head, but then gestured toward her ribs again.  
>"Lie down," he commanded. She obliged, wincing in the motion. Vincent ran his golden fingertip along the side of her heavy shirt, slicing it open. His brow furrowed immediately at what he saw underneath. The skin over her ribs reminded him of crackled porcelain: uncountable fractures in the bright white surface leaked silvery blood down her stomach.<br>"I can't go back like this. I'll be...in pieces."  
>"You don't have a choice. Don't push yourself, Aria," he warned, tentatively pressing against her shattered skin. She gasped and jerked away.<br>"Sorry. You cannot force yourself to stay in this form, or you will lose control. Once that happens, I do not think I can help you."  
>Aria was quiet for a long, tense moment. Finally, she sighed, embarrassed tears filling her eyes.<br>"I'm scared. I don't know what to do."  
>Vincent finally looked at her face. He fought to swallow, watching a single tear roll across the bridge of her nose and fall to the dirt beneath her left cheek.<br>"Relax. Your senses are elevated. You need to bring them down. Focus on your breathing. Close your eyes and start to release the tension in your muscles."  
>Slowly, she rose to sitting again, then leaned her back against his chest. He cautiously wrapped his left arm around her uninjured side and rested his cheek on her snowy hair. Raven black strands fell protectively over silky white.<br>"If I stop breathing, it's on you. Sephiroth will prevail and it will be all your fault," she managed to joke before closing her eyes and leaning further into him.  
>"Understood," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "Now let go of this body. You will be fine," he coaxed, hoping he sounded more convinced than he was.<br>After several long minutes of labored breathing, Aria's respiration regularized. As her body went limp against him, her skin glowed under his arm. His eyes fixed upon her head as her hair returned to its natural dark brown. The color bled down the strands from the roots like spilled ink running down a bare page. Hope began to build in him, while fear slowly subsided.

He watched the crack in her left arm seal itself as her skin softened, and kissed her head again. Moments later, he craned his neck to check her ribs. The skin had repaired itself, but was colored an angry purple. He swore to himself at the injury, angry at the injustice of its survival.

"Aria?" he tested, straightening his back and consequently lifting her torso. She gave no response. He allowed another two minutes to pass before laying her on the ground. His hands neared trembling in both fear and pain from his own fractures as he checked her pulse. A sigh fell from him at the weak beat of her heart.

He held her for another five minutes, forcing himself to be still, before calling to her again. She remained motionless in his arms. His eyes narrowed upon noticing a small drop of water on her cheek. As he wiped it away, another appeared above her eyebrow, causing him to turn his face upward. The sky had darkened with ominous clouds, threatening a storm. He dropped his head in frustration.

After carefully sliding out from under her torso, Vincent stood, still holding her back off of the ground. Only a deep breath could brace him for the searing pain of lifting her limp frame from the dirt. The raindrops increased, covering her face, and dampening his hair within minutes of taking off for the Forgotten City. He knew the trek would take an hour with Aria in his arms, and kept on.

"Feel free to come back, Love. Though I live to hold you...this is perhaps not the best time."

He had walked for thirty minutes before the throbbing in his wrist finally compounded with the bullet in his side, forcing him to stop for rest.

He chose a healthy pine for protection, and carefully leaned his back against its trunk. Relying on his unparalleled balance, he bent his knees until he could fully sit against the tree, holding Aria against his chest in front of him, her legs falling inside his own. The rain proved too weak to soak through the tree's needles, sheltering the pair from the unkind elements while he breathed heavily, his head resting against the bark.

The bullet had not passed through any vital organs, he figured, or he would have never come so far. Still, the wound burned fiercely. He closed his eyes against his weariness, and did not feel the time slip out from under him. 

When he awoke, he did so slowly, cautiously. Rain had begun to pour, and the pine was no longer able to shelter its guests. He first felt his familiar pain, then the cold, wet heaviness of his clothes, and finally, the eyes that watched him closely. His muscles tensed in surprise and irritation.

"Why did you not wake me? We can't stay out here," he scolded quietly, forgetting to welcome her back to the waking world. As he spoke, he began to lift her torso and stand simultaneously. She gripped his left wrist tightly to stop him.

"No. You're hurt. You're bleeding...Don't carry me. I can make it."

Initially, he wanted to protest, but the incessant pain in his side mixed with the endless throbbing of his hand stilled his tongue. Somewhere, a line had been crossed. As protective as he felt over the woman now slowly rising to her feet, his instincts screamed for him to make his own health a priority. As they had slept, an edgy distance had settled between them.

Once Aria had found her own footing, he slid himself carefully up the tree, using all of the strength in his legs. Within a minute, they were off, both struggling to gain any distance, both fighting to hide their suffering.

As the Forgotten City came into the horizon, Aria breathed deeply to speak.

"I saw them...when I was out."

His eyes darted from the city in the distance to her face and back again. "A dream."

She shook her head. "Maybe. They were in Edge. They...came in and out...walking out of the city...toward a lodge..."

"Healin?"

Tiredly, she shrugged, closing subject, and focusing her energy on reaching the city. She ended the conversation bluntly with,

"I can set your wrist for you when we get back. If you trust me."

He could not fight the humor of the situation, and exhaled a small laugh.


	35. Toxic Stillness

"So? Now what?" Vincent asked, watching Aria wrap his wrist tightly to a solid piece of tree bark, pushing and pulling his bones back into alignment. His tired eyes could scarcely determine where his black sleeve ended and her own torn cape began on his hand.

"I don't know. They can't touch us,"

"You," he corrected. She furrowed her brow at his uncharacteristic interruption.

"Me. And with the knowledge of the last remains of Jenova, I'd say Rufus is in for a visit. So, we wait. They'll find Jenova and the events of Meteorfall will replay, sans Meteor."

"At the risk of how many lives? They could tear Edge apart looking for those cells." His concern for the young city surprised even him. The pair went silent at the words. She yanked one last time at his wrist and held the fabric tightly against his skin, giving a single nod.

"Cure it," she ordered.

The room flooded with green light, and the pain washed out of his arm. His shoulders instantly relaxed.

"We should warn them..." he mused, watching his hand again as she unwrapped the layers of fabric.

"Too late."

He exhaled heavily, leaning back again the wicker chair. His side was still tender from the bullet wound that had been closed ten minutes before. She did not need to look up to know of the darkness spreading across his features. Her own wounds had not been Cured for fear of permanently unaligned bones, and ate at her nerves.

"What?" she asked sharply, exhaustion giving way to frustration in her voice.

His back straightened, preparing for the words to come.

"You seem rather willing to let those men run rampant across the continents. We know little of what they can do. Those hounds were likely a small glimpse into their arsenal. I suppose I am...surprised at how at ease you are with unleashing them on the world without even issuing a warning."

Her neck stiffened with her facial features, and cold violet eyes met red intensely.

"They are not my responsibility. I did not summon them. They were coming with or without me. Shinra made this bed by keeping those cells around."

"Is there more to it than that?" he asked, hinting at the streak of vengeance that ran through her inaction.

"There's nothing we can do now, Vincent. They're already there. But do I not look forward to Rufus's death? Is that the question? 'Cause I can't wait. And I don't think you can blame me."

"You're letting your past cloud your judgement. You're still angry with him."

"ARE YOU NOT STILL ANGRY?" she shot back, knowingly striking a raw nerve.

He replied lowly, "Anger is...dangerous, Aria. It is a destructive motive."

She shook her head, narrowing her eyes on him venomously. "Bullshit. I was a Turk during your awakening, Vincent. Reeve kept me informed. You would never have left that basement if not for your anger. You'd have rotted down there forever without it."

He said nothing and stared at the tabletop. The air between them was tense and fragile, as though a single thoughtless word could send either of them over the edge. Eventually, she softened.

"I'm just...tired. I'm so tired. My ribs... are broken. I'm bleeding internally, and I know that. And no Cure is going to set that straight. The Jenova will take care of it, if I just rest. I cannot help that I don't feel up to saving Edge right now. I just want to lie down."

"Why did you take that blow?" he demanded in a low growl, revealing the cause of the tension. "I could have handled it. Instead, you're..." his eyes traveled her bruised body before finally meeting her eyes.

"You didn't even know it was coming," she answered.

"Why save me, when you're the one keeping Sephiroth at bay?"

She sighed, and her lips curled upward just slightly. "You're so worth saving. You have no idea."

"You're delusional. Go lie down."

.

The sun rose lazily over the forest of the north, as if even nature was not prepared for these days. Vincent watched the light slowly pour itself over the distant trees from his perch on top of the temple. He watched the light breezes cover the footprints left behind by Tseng and Elena as they dragged themselves back to Edge of foot. His morality wrestled with his new occupation: watching. His frustration with Aria kept him away from the small house. Her body was healing itself, but her spirit remained unmoved by the inevitable attacks on Edge. Vincent had taken to roaming the white woods in the previous week, and had consequently let the silver-haired brothers come back to him. Two nights he lay on top of the temple listening to them form a plan: collect the Geostigma-infected people of Edge, and activate what they called "the reunion instinct." The infected would sense the presence of Jenova and ruthlessly hunt down Rufus's last few cells. He wanted to be surprised when Aria's dreams reflected the plan coming together, but he was not. She saw them go to Rufus, demanding that he join them. She saw Rufus turn them on Cloud, who he claimed was "far more familiar with Jenova." Vincent failed to feel anything with these visions. Instead, he numbly wandered the woods while she slept and healed in solitude, mentally preparing for the day that the Remnants would bring their victims north. As time passed, though, he wondered if he would even try to interfere.

.

"...They will use the temple's waters to do it, within the next twenty-four hours," Vincent said, finishing his explanation of the Remnants' plan. Aria had listened quietly, furrowing her brow occasionally, but keeping a distant expression throughout.

"They have Marlene," he added lowly. He waited patiently for her response, as though testing her. Finally, she spoke.

"Cloud's involved, at least. That's good. He will help. And Barrett, too, I'm sure."

They stared at each other coldly, Vincent's eyes colored with disbelief, Aria's, with indifference. She had met the child, he thought. There was a face to that name.

"That's all you have to say," he stated more than asked. He struggled to hide the blazing mixture of sadness and fury in his chest.

She did not even nod.

"Where has your fire gone?" he asked quietly, leaving the house before giving her time to reply, knowing she would not have answered if he'd stayed.

.

The woods were silent, as always, as he aimlessly wandered, reflecting on the crumbling state of his connection to Aria. As time passed, his empathy had faded into frustration, which had only recently turned to genuine distaste. He was ashamed of her nonchalant behavior, angry that she felt no connection to the goings-on of Edge. More than that, he was furious with himself that he had not been able to motivate her to action, and had allowed himself to stand by her, abandoning his friends to the Remnants.

These thoughts swirled darkly through his mind, causing him to nearly miss the distant sound of an engine. When his ears registered the motor, his head snapped up, quickly pinpointing the location of the sound. It was coming for him, and quickly.

His view from the treetops set his senses alight. As expected, the Remnants were coming, their Geostigma-afflicted victims huddled in the back of a large truck. Red eyes widened: They were all children.

Knowing he was no match for the trio, he was left to watch from above as the children gave themselves over to the trio. He watched Marlene watch her peers submit to the waters, desperately sending his thoughts to her, hoping she would look upward and know she was not alone. She did not.

Upon realizing the Remnants had no intention of harming her, he left the scene to pace his forest. Something had to be done, and he was not equipped to do it alone. Even if he had rescued Marlene, he could not care for her. The small house, in which he was barely a guest anymore, contained scarcely enough food to last the next two days, and he refused to subject a child to Aria's shift in personality.

He walked for thirty minutes before the ground vibrated beneath him again. As swiftly as before, he ascended to his treetops. He sighed audibly in relief at the sight of Cloud's approaching bike. The relief was short lived.

Gunshots broke through the air below Vincent, sending a jolt of adrenaline through his body.

By the time he reached the impromptu battle ground, only a few yards from the Shadowcreepers' attack, he noted, Cloud was already on the ground. He had lost control of his bike in an attempt to avoid running down the changed children. Vincent could tell a difficult fight had already taken place. A tree had been felled, the ground had deep gouges running through it that pointed back to the blond. Kadaj was preparing to take advantage of Cloud's fall. Before he reached the disoriented man, a blanket of red blocked his vision.

While darting around the trees, Vincent fired several shots, missing the men, but successfully keeping them away while he made his escape with Cloud.

.

"I was fine."

Vincent leaned against a tree and crossed his arms, dipping the lower half of his face into his cloak's tall collar.

"I can take you back, if you wish."

Cloud sighed heavily, beaten.

"I knew I'd be no help," he said to himself. Vincent did not press the matter, and instead, waited for Cloud to speak again.

"Vincent, what do you know about this?" he asked from the ground, brushing his arms off just to have something to do.

Too much, was the taller man's instinctive answer.

Vincent held back his own opinions while explaining the Geostigma and what he knew of the Remnants' plans. While he spoke, he noticed the obvious question in Cloud's eyes. It never left his mouth, and Vincent was grateful. The woman he had so proudly defended as a hero was now another black mark on his conscience.

"You're well-informed," Cloud noted after Vincent's detailed explanation.

"Tseng and Elena...they were brought here half-dead." Vivid images of the fateful evening flashed through his mind, as Chaos revealed new images from his own memory. Vincent suppressed his surprise.

"I did what I could to save them..." he said, leaving out the decision to let them find their own way back to Edge. "Well, we'll see..." he added, picturing them crawling, bloody and weak, through the forest.

"Tortured?" Cloud asked.

"They had it coming." The words ran deeper than Cloud could have guessed.

The conversation fell to a tense silence. The quiet allowed both men to fall into their respective thoughts, leaving them both startled when nearby bushes began to rustle. Marlene ran through and straight into Cloud. Vincent relaxed. Cloud did not.

After a disappointing revelation about Vincent's lack of cellphone, Cloud asked him to take Marlene back to Edge. Immediately, he refused, having already thought out his inability to care for a young child. Dejected by Cloud's response, Marlene ran to Vincent's side. He allowed her to hide under his cape, protectively placing his arm on her shoulder and mentally cursing the thoughtless young man before him. Cloud struggled to explain his need to fight to the angry young girl.

Aria's inaction had seeped in under Vincent's skin. Perhaps someone else would take on Sephiroth when the time came. Perhaps none of his friends needed to risk their lives again.

"Cloud...are you sure this is about fighting?" he asked, testing the young man's warrior-like mindset. He watched the man's blue eyes lose focus, and understood what the distant look meant. Marlene gripped Vincent's hand, waiting for Cloud to answer.

Eventually, Cloud turned back to the present. Sadness had mixed with determination in his face.

"Are sins ever forgiven?" he asked Vincent. The question caused a tightness in his chest.

_ARE YOU NOT STILL ANGRY?_

"I've never tried," Vincent admitted lowly.

The words seemed to strike Cloud, propelling him into motion.

"Marlene, let's go." He turned back to his darker friend. "Well, I'm gonna try."

As the pair walked away, he added, "I'll phone in the verdict."

Vincent turned back toward the Forgotten City. Yes, Cloud was certainly involved now.

.

The tightness in his chest had finally subsided by the time he returned to the edge of the city. It was replaced with an anticipatory buzz at what he saw. The Shera was parked in the middle of the town, and Cid was just leaping off the aircraft. He caught the contrast of Vincent's red cape and waved to him.

"How the hell are ya?" Cid asked, slapping him on the back.

"It's hard to say," Vincent replied, shaking the pilot's hand.

"I came to pick your ass up. We gotta get to Edge. There are some punks terrorizing the city, and Tifa seems to think it's serious."

"It is."

Cid stepped back to look Vincent over. "You know about it? Well, what the hell're ya still doin' up here in B.F.E.?"

Vincent thought carefully, but could not explain his situation without embarrassing himself.

"It's complicated."

"Well," Cid replied brashly, "we ain't got time for complicated. Get your shit and let's go. Where's the lady? She should probably come along. Shinra's involved, and that makes me think she probably is, too."

"She won't," Vincent admitted quietly.

"The hell ya mean, 'she won't'? She will if she cares anything about her friends. Reno and Rude have been on these guys for a while, and they're gettin' their asses handed to 'em."

Even as the Captain spoke, he could see the conflict brewing in Vincent's eyes. Something about Aria was tearing him up inside, he didn't have time to talk it out now.

"I'll go get 'er myself. Where is she?" he demanded, waving Vincent on to the ship.

"She doesn't want to fight. I can't...get her to fight. She doesn't care about any of it anymore."

"Maybe my approach will be more convincing," Cid responded, taking off for the houses. Vincent could not bring himself to follow.

.

The house was easy to find, as it was the only building with opened windows and gouges taken out of its exterior. Cid raised his eyebrows at the damage, and made a note to ask about it later. His fist pounded the door only twice before it swung open.

"The city is abandoned. I could hear you coming yards away. You don't have to pound the door."

"Nice to see you again, too. There's a battle to be fought in Edge, and the people that need your help happen to be the same ones who sheltered you and saved your life when Shinra was after you. They may have forgotten, but I didn't. You owe them, so put some shoes on."

Aria glared back at him, her posture just as imposing as his, her chest out proudly.

"It's not my fight."

"Bullshit it ain't your fight. It's just as much yours as any of those kids out there already fightin' it...if not more. I don't know what you're tryin' to pull here, but you somehow got yourself on Vince's bad side. That ain't a place I'd want to stay for long, so you better-"

"Don't be an idiot, Cid," she interrupted. He stepped back in shock, ready to pull his fist back. As he glared at her, he finally noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Her chest seemed to cave, her back slouching in the door frame.

"Do you know who those 'punks' are?" she asked, her voice gravelly.

He shook his head once.

"Remnants...of Sephiroth. They're going to bring him back with Rufus's last remaining Jenova cells."

Cid felt his jaw slacken.

"It's okay. He can't win. He can do some damage, but he's only human. Don't be afraid to fight him."

"If I shouldn't be afraid, then why are you?" he demanded, frustrated to be losing time.

"I'm not afraid," she shot back. "When he dies...the last of the unbound Jenova will die with him. And the rest will be in me."

"Yeah, that's your job, isn't it?" he asked coldly.

"Vincent will tell you I've been having visions of the Remnants. I can see some of what they're doing in Edge. He doesn't know that I've had visions of myself...or, this body...after all of this is over."

He sighed, crossing his arms. "And?"

"He was right," she said quietly to herself, despite the fact that Cid knew not of whom she spoke. She lifted her face back to him.

"Once those last cells are gone...when there is no hope for a reunion, the Jenova in my bloodstream will rebel, fight against the constraints of my body."

"But you're equipped to handle that. For the Planet tells you so," he mocked.

"I'm equipped to prevent Jenova from leaving my body and infecting anyone else."

"So?"

"So don't be an idiot, Cid," her eyes darkened as she leaned forward, now speaking with intensity. "You can't possibly think I don't want to be heading out there with you two. Or that I didn't want to be there a week ago to prepare the city." She paused, feeling herself revealing too much.

"But how could Avalanche not blame me...for not holding up my end of the bargain? I was supposed to protect the planet, and because of Shinra's foolishness, I failed."

"No," he finally answered, reading her face clearly now. "That's not why you've pushed him away."

Her eyes narrowed, asking, _How do you know?_

He turned toward the ship and over his shoulder, answered her.

"I'm not an idiot."

The walk back to the ship was much longer with the weight he now bore.


	36. Transience

"Well, she ain't comin'. You're right. She don't care about anyone anymore. And she seems happy that way," Cid bluffed.

"Let's go. It doesn't matter," Vincent replied. For the first time, he believe it. He felt no guilt in leaving her behind: his friends needed him more.

As they crossed the planet, Vincent explained what he had learned to Cid. The pilot stayed surprisingly quiet, offering no interjections.

"You livin' up there again?" Cid finally asked, drastically changing the topic.

Vincent took a deep breath.

"I suppose I am."

"Man, you should come back down to the real world. Surround yourself with people. Ain't good for ya to be up there all alone- it'll drive ya crazy."

"I'm not alone." The lie settled uneasily over the pair.

"Well, you're welcome with us, you know. Shera would love to have you."

"Thank you."

With that, the topic was closed.

.

Vincent was not surprised to see the familiar demonic hounds terrorizing Edge. By the time they had arrived, though, a far larger threat had been released. Havoc had taken over, as civilians were fleeing the main square while the Remnants' Bahamut stormed the city.

He knew he did not belong on the ground, so Vincent scaled the unfinished skyscrapers with ease, firing all the time at the massive creature, and landing only a few serious shots. Battling alongside his old companions put his mind at ease, and his movements became instinctive and fluid. The fight washed away his preoccupations, and he numbly allowed that day's events to unfold before him.

It all happened as he'd expected. Kadaj got his hands on the cells, and Sephiroth was reborn. Cloud, unsurprisingly, took him on fearlessly, and Vincent watched from above. The opposing forces were well matched. Cloud had grown stronger, and refused to let his past dominate his future. And eventually, the moment came. Sephiroth slipped, and allowed himself to be surrounded by Cloud's blades. While the crew cheered from above, Vincent simply nodded, grateful for the accuracy of Aria's prediction. Kadaj died in Cloud's arms, and the church's healing rains spread over the city. Vincent watched as beads rolled down the airship's glass front. He was the only one to see Yazoo and Loz approach Cloud from behind, but from the air, could do nothing to stop the bullet that blew through his young friend's back. A knot formed in his stomach, and even as Cloud brought down the two remaining brothers, it did not subside.

Tifa was mess, shouting for Cid to lower the ship, to let her get to him. The pilot moved as quickly as he could. Barrett was swearing a storm, his curses matched only by the slew of profanities flying from Cid's mouth as he struggled to lower the Shera enough for Tifa to safely jump off. Yuffie was silent, and that made it clear that the situation was serious.

Barrett carried Cloud to the church, followed by a silent procession of the planet's former heroes. They each had comforting thoughts to share, but held their tongues. A crowd formed behind them, and by the time they placed Cloud in the church's waters, the building was filled with silent civilians, paying their respects.

The air was tense for the ten minutes that it took for Cloud to return to the world. As he opened his eyes, the room collectively relaxed. The knot in Vincent's stomach remained. The world was at peace, the children were healing, yet Vincent could not enjoy the victory. He was the first to step out of the church.

"So it's over."

He turned sharply at the voice. It came from Reno, who leaned casually against the church's cracked exterior. Vincent said nothing.

"I guess we got no reason to fight, huh? You know, Rufus really does want to set things right. Alternative energy, global peace-keeping operations, the whole lot."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Vincent replied.

"Where is she?" Reno asked, cutting to the chase.

The knot burned in his stomach. He shook his head.

"Oh?" Reno said, intrigued. "Trouble in paradise?"

"You should get back to your master," Vincent snarled.

"Alright, alright," he replied, raising his hands in defense, "I just came to pass along the message. You leave us alone, and we'll leave you."

"Noted."

"I guess you're ready to get out of here."

Vincent turned back toward the door to find Cid walking out of the church, lighting a cigarette.

At first, Vincent did not answer. He instead looked back and found Reno had vanished into thin air, like the Turk he was.

"I already said your goodbyes for you. And...you promised a visit soon." With that, he took off for the edge of the city, where the ship had been left. Vincent followed quietly behind him. Cid was grateful: he did not have to hide the worry in his eyes.

.

"I'm gonna be here for a bit, I gotta take a look at my baby. We took some serious dives back there," Cid told Vincent as he stepped off of the Shera and into the Forgotten City once again. Vincent only nodded before heading back to the familiar house. He was somewhat surprised his legs did not want to carry him faster.

As he approached the front door, his heart beat faster and his head seemed to spin. He was more exhausted than he thought. The door was not latched, and fell open easily under the press of his fingers. His breath escaped, and did not return.

The house was as tidy as it ever had been, as though no one had lived there. His eyes scanned every piece of furniture for a sign, something of hers, a hint that she would be back soon. His search led him to the kitchen table, where his eyes had locked on a gun.

As his fingers wrapped around its wooden grip, the weapon registered in his memory. It was his old Shinra pistol, now drastically altered. The barrel had swirling designs carved into it that each ended at one of three canine busts. From the grip dangled a silver chain, at the end of which was attached a matching three-headed dog, and a single leather-like wing. The modified gun had been resting on a single folded sheet of white paper.

_Vincent,_  
><em>This is not how I wanted to say goodbye. I wanted to hold you, to be held by you, to feel your skin against mine, to run my fingers through your hair, to stare into your warm, warm eyes. But Gaia needed you elsewhere, and I didn't belong. I assume if you're reading this, the good guys won. And that might not have happened had you not been there. And it might not have happened if I had.<em>  
><em>Your success means that I have all that's left of Jenova in me, and as the planet's guardian, I believe my body will attempt to destroy it. I don't know what will happen to me in the process. I've had visions, just like with the Remnants. But they have varied: some have given me hope, others have frightened me terribly. I accepted either fate when I returned to Shinra and took on this duty. Whatever happens, I am at peace knowing that I finally made a positive difference. And I am at peace having known you. I owe you everything. You had no reason to protect me, to care for me, to help me, and yet you stayed, ever vigilant and loyal to our cause. I cannot thank you enough, and words can't explain how madly in love with you I am.<em>  
><em>Do not look for me- you won't find me. I have gone to a quiet place of my own to ride this out. Go with Cid, away from the solitude of this city. It does not need you any longer, and you deserve a rest in the company of good friends. Shera would love to dote on you, I'm sure. If my brighter visions come true, I will find you, I promise. Until that day, continue your search for peace. Find your closure. Know that I will miss your knowing looks, your fearless devotion, the coolness of your skin, the warmth of your eyes, the sly remarks you thought nobody ever heard, your acceptance of my history, and your patience with everything. Everything. My fire has not gone anywhere- my fire is you.<em>

_I found that scrap of paper next to the bed back in Edge. It must have fallen out of your pocket. I borrowed it for a prayer._

_I love you._  
><em>Aria.<em>

_P.S. I hope you don't mind that I fixed up your gun. Cerberus guards the gates of hell...but from which side?_

He looked back at the table, where a small piece of wrinkled paper lay. It felt familiar as soon as he picked it up and he did not need to read it to know what it said. He did anyway, and exhaled at the sight of the Cosmo Inn stationary and her faded script, "_To Survival._"  
>The knot in his stomach faded as he stood silently in the middle of the house, processing the letter. As he read and reread her parting words, a heaviness settled into his chest with a feeling he only recognized as permanence. Fighting the Remnants, the hounds, and Bahamut had left him with little more than a scratch, and a single sheet of paper seemed to paralyze his legs and tear his heart from his chest, collapsing his lungs in the process. The gunshot to the chest had been easier to handle. It must be the familiarity, he thought. To have come so close to another gem of a being, and have her slip through his fingers...it was maddening. He berated himself for ignoring the possibility of this outcome. <em>Transience<em> blared through his mind, rattling his thoughts, interfering with every attempt at optimism. _She tried to tell me...I would not listen._

_.  
><em>

Cid bit his bottom lip and unfolded his arms as Vincent approached. He tried to catch the gunman's gaze, but found the task impossible. The red eyes were both sharply focused and chillingly distant, as though a hurricane were happening in his body. Only once Vincent was within speaking distance did the frenzied eyes lock onto his own, causing Cid to jolt in surprise.  
>"You knew."<br>He could only offer a look of apology before nodding slowly and replying, "You did, too."  
>For a split second, Cid braced for a blow to the face, but it did not come. That was not Vincent, he reminded himself. Instead, the taller man silently climbed on board the airship. He followed closely, fearing his friend finding too much time to himself.<br>"You did, Vince. You knew months ago, and you...you forgot."  
>"I berated her," Vincent replied lowly, swinging open the metal door and entering the spacious cockpit. He did not turn to face Cid as he spoke.<br>"I doubted her. In our last moment together, I was writing her off. I questioned her loyalty to the cause she may have..." He did not finish the thought, but Cid interrupted.  
>"She wanted you to. You're a smart guy, Vince. Don't you get it? If she hadn't repelled you in those last few days, would have come to Edge with us?"<br>Before he could respond, Cid kept on.  
>"And if you had, what would you have been thinking about? And say she came with you. Would you really be fighting for Edge, with us, or just to protect 'The Guardian?' Sometimes I wonder if you were buying into it more than she did."<br>Vincent froze, sending a clear message to Cid, who quickly backpedaled.  
>"I mean, obviously she...she was right. She must have done her part- Sephiroth's gone. The Remnants are gone, the Stigma is gone. And she helped make that happen...But she was doing you and everyone else a favor by making you doubt her at the end."<p>

He wanted to take back his final two words as soon as they crossed his lips, but Cid stood his ground. As far he understood, Aria was gone, having done her part to save the planet, and that included Vincent Valentine, and she was not coming back.  
>"She loved ya, Vince. At least try to cherish that."<br>With that, Cid was left standing in the cockpit, the door to the ship's quarters closing heavily behind Vincent.

.

He did as she asked, and stayed with Cid and Shera for a short time, though eventually, Vincent came to terms with the notion that he was only staying in Rocket Town because he thought it was the first place Aria would look for him. Shera touched him more than he felt was normal, gripping his shoulder, rubbing his arm, as though she were checking for signs of life on a regular schedule. A distant, logical part of him could not blame her: He walked the outskirts of the town in the day, disappearing for hours at a time, and when he came back, he stared out the window at nothing in particular. He spoke only when prompted, and in succinct, colorless phrases. Cid had begun to roll his eyes any time the other man opened his mouth at all, trying to accept his healing process and finding it pointless at the same time.

After two weeks of sympathetic glances and quiet dinners, the news seemed to spread. Tifa was the first to stop by for a visit, though she claimed she had no real reason for stopping by other than "catching up." While Vincent silently helped Shera clean up with kitchen, he caught Cid and Tifa's voices coming from the back door. They talked in hushed whispers about "moving on," and "closure." He did not mind their concern, as worrying about him seemed to make them more comfortable than accepting that he did not and would not ever feel like discussing Aria Marx and how she had and currently affected him. He did not mind until he heard Tifa whisper another beautiful name, and it echoed with crippling clarity in his ears: Aeris. That evening, he thanked Cid and Shera for their hospitality and promised another visit soon. Less than two hours after the quiet comparison had been made, he was gone.


	37. Relief in the Most Unlikely Places

The journey to Costa del Sol took less time than he anticipated, though he had to remind himself that he was not working on any schedule. He bought a ticket on the next available ferry, which would arrive just after sunset, and found a shady patio to occupy his time.  
>From his uncomfortable seat just off the beach, he could watch the beachgoers. Couples walked hand in hand, laughing at private jokes, pointing out the various beauties of the ocean. He was more interested in watching the few single beachgoers awkwardly pack their towels and sunscreen into small colorful bags, attempting to leave no trace of their lonely visits as they migrated back to the cobblestone streets. He wondered why these seemingly plain people would visit such a place alone. His mind made creative connections between the various strangers to pass the time. <em>The bald man in red shorts had been following the younger brunette in the white bikini for days. He had no idea that she was on to him, and already had plans to leave town tonight, to slip right through his fingers for the last time.<em> She let her bun down and dark hair cascaded over her shoulders. The evening breezes were cooling the beach. Luckily, she had brought a sheer white cover up and white cotton pants. His story disintegrated as he watched her watch the water. Soon, she turned, craning her neck back toward town, and the growing traces of foolish hope fell away. He shook his head at his own naivete, and headed back toward the ferry docks.

* * *

><p>The day had seemed endless: re-assembling a global empire proved exhausting work. Slender fingers wrapped around a glass of brassy liquid relaxation and did not let go. The black jacket that had been tossed carelessly over the back of a kitchen chair now lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Reno found its appearance symbolic, and let it stay. It colored his apartment just the right shade of, "Running on fumes."<br>He had just rested his head back on the overstuffed gray armchair when the knock sounded at his door. It was a light, courteous rapping, telling him immediately that it was no one he knew. He strongly considered leaving it, staying in his chair ever-so-silently, and letting the visitor slink away unanswered.  
>Another knock, slightly louder, pushed him out of the chair and angrily to the door.<br>"What? What, what, what? Can I get ten hours? Just ten fucking hours?" he rambled, steaming at the untimely guest, and consequently, violently swinging open the door without a glance through the peephole. The sight of the man standing in the hallway caused him to jolt, scrambling for a weapon of any kind, and coming up empty-handed.  
>"Relax."<br>"What are you doing here?"  
>"I'm still asking myself the same. I'm not here to harm you..."<br>Reno was taken aback by the distance in his eyes. He was clearly distracted, exhausted.  
>"Well, I hope not. We made a deal. Those days are over. So...were you wanting to come in? Or...?" He struggled to accommodate the man, but relaxed a bit when he shrugged one shoulder and nodded ambivalently.<br>"You want...something to drink?" Reno asked, closing the door behind him.  
>"No, thank you."<br>"Well, sit down, I guess. What..." he began, watching the slightly dazed man find a place on the couch, "What can I do for you?"  
>Before he could answer, Reno put the pieces together. Or, as it were, the missing piece.<br>"Ah...shit," he sighed in understanding. He collapsed into his chair once more, taking a long drink.  
>"So...what happened, Valentine?"<br>Vincent was firm in his belief. "Nothing has happened. Nothing certain." Reno noticed the red eyes coming into focus as he spoke.  
>"...She left. Distanced herself and slipped away while we were here. She wanted to be alone while her body...rid itself of the cells."<br>"And how does one go about that?" Reno asked skeptically. The only answer was a shrug.  
>"I gotta ask, Vincent...You have people who actually like you. Why would you come here to grie-...wait this out?"<br>"They look at me...like they did when I first joined them. With pity, with 'understanding' nods and feigned empathy for something they do not understand."  
>"Hmm. Well don't worry about any pity from me. I knew that tornado of a woman."<br>For the first time, Vincent looked him in the eye. Reno smirked and raised his glass slightly.  
>"And that is why you hunted me down. There are only a handful of us left...that even knew who she was."<br>Vincent sighed at Reno's use of the past tense.  
>"I won't sit here and praise her name for you, though," Reno added firmly. Vincent furrowed his brow.<br>"I had no such expectation. I know...how she complicated things." He surprised himself with his ability to still sympathize with a Turk's frame of mind.  
>"You got that right. She was an unpredictable, dangerous, double-crossing..." It was now Reno's eyes that went distant as he looked back at his past. "...skilled, cool...genuinely cool...person."<br>From the corner of his eye, Reno could see Vincent relax against the back of the couch. He had no reason to invite the gunman into his apartment, no reason to trust he was not there to kill him. But the bond of the title, 'Turk,' and the end of the recent threats to Edge and Gaia combined into an inkling of camaraderie. They had both survived Sephiroth twice, mostly unscarred or worse for the wear. Peacetime had settled into Reno's disposition. A number of elements came together at just the right time, causing him to indulge Vincent's unspoken pleas for a glimpse into Aria's past. The man was not yet ready to let go, or perhaps this was part of the process; Reno couldn't tell. Either way, his drink fueled his tongue.  
>"I didn't actually meet her until she brought me in to replace her..."<p>

.

If she had been sitting in the room with them, he knew he would be laughing. He knew he would have cracked his first real, teeth-baring, laugh-line inducing smile in over thirty years. She would be doubled over, helplessly defending her honor as Reno scorched her, telling her most charmingly embarrassing stories. Somehow, he was managing to verbally maneuver around Sephiroth, and steered clear of her downfall with the company. Then again, that was where his stories would cut off anyway. Had she been in the room, Vincent's side would ache from laughter. As it were, he merely closed his eyes in appreciation of Reno's recollections. He envisioned each tale with crystal clarity, watching in his mind as she suffered through a Wutaian shaman cutting tattoos into her arms, outran the Midgar Zolom while her friends watched on, embraced Rufus as he crashed a Turks-only outing as a young man, danced on one bar after another, helped Reno adjust to life as a bodyguard, all with a signature, devilish grin that implied that fear played a minimal role in her life.  
>"Time settled her down immensely. By the time she...left, she didn't really belong anymore. She seemed to have outgrown us, the whole company. Her heart wasn't in it in the end. Granted, she was older than most of us by a few years, so... Some of us saw it coming. Some of us were...blindsided."<br>Vincent recognized the allusion to Rufus when he heard it.  
>"But things were too crazy to do much about it at that point," Reno mused, sensing the benefits of his memories diminishing.<br>"So," he said, sitting up straight for the first time in an hour, "you need a place to stay for the night, I guess."  
>"No, I had no intention of..."<br>"Nah, it's fine. I've stuck around long enough to get a two-bedroom, if you can believe it. Sheets on the bed and everything. Help yourself, don't kill me in my sleep, if you don't mind."  
>Vincent stood slowly, and avoided Reno's gaze.<br>"Reno...thank you."  
>The redhead rubbed his eyes, still trying to wrap his mind around the evening.<br>"You're alright," he answered, casually sauntering away to his own bedroom, and raising a single hand in goodnight.  
>Vincent turned toward the front door and let the words play in his mind. Not, "it's alright," but, "You're alright." Reno knew what Vincent needed even before he realized it himself. He shook his head at the realization, and decided not to refuse the offering.<br>The bedroom was large, compared to the living room. Vincent undressed to his boxers, placing the newly-named Cerberus under the opposite pillow, and let his body relax into the bed. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed a small glimmer of light a few inches from his face. He slid his right hand upward and touched the light, realizing it was the charm that decorated his weapon.

He held it tightly in his palm, running his fingers over its grooves until he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	38. Light

_Don't have much food, but help yourself. You can stay if you want. I have cable. Don't drink my booze._  
>Vincent set the note back on the counter and froze for a moment, internal, opposing forces trying to take him out the front door and back into the living room at the same time. He had not intended to stay, and yet had no thoughts of another destination. The unknown lost out to the comfort of the gray couch.<br>As he slid into his place from the night before, he noticed the presence of a black photo album on the silver coffee table. It had not been there before. He picked it up and set it on his lap, slowly taking in every page.  
>Most of the photos and press clippings were about Reno, Rude, or Tseng, as they were the most publicized members of the team. In the early pages, Reno was always in frame with Rufus. Aria appeared with every other turn of a page. The photos illustrated Reno's stories. Someone had caught a shot of her holding onto Rude's arm, leaning out over the Da Chao cliff. He ran his fingers over the plastic pages, internally smirking at her youth, her short hair, her suit. When he next turned the page, he experienced a similar feeling to that of the night before: his body wanted to laugh, but his spirits would not allow it.<br>Carefully placed in chronological order were professional photos of the Turks at various galas and benefits, always in formal clothing, always looking away from the camera. In one, Aria blocked the majority of her face with a compact mirror, checking her makeup, while Rude guided her hand, his back to the camera. In another, Reno and Aria's backs were turned around, facing the backdrop and looking up in the far corner to which Aria was pointing.  
>As the pages gathered on the left side of the book, Aria's appearance began to taper off. She turned more into the woman he met in Midgar before fighting Sephiroth, and less into a wild young woman. Knowing more of her history made Vincent think back to the Cosmo Harvest. She was free that night, and returning to her old self. He felt warm, knowing that he had caught a glimpse of the carefree, fun woman she had been as a Turk. The photos became more candid, centering more on Reno and Rufus. He wondered who had taken the shots as he settled on a frame of Rufus genuinely laughing, his mouth stretched into a wide smile, as Reno pulled at his arm from a white couch. The book closed with a heavy thud, and he placed it back on the table with a sigh. This, he thought, must be healing. Closure could not be far behind.<p>

.

"Toss me those chopsticks, would ya?" Reno asked, already picking vegetables out of the white box and popping them into his mouth. Vincent chose to stand and pass the red packaged utensils to his host in the armchair. Reno nodded, not expecting the man to actually toss them, knowing that any of his actual friends would have thrown them with all their strength.  
>Vincent opened his own chopsticks and sat back on the couch, his metal fingers wrapped around a small white box of his own. The television across from him had been turned on, and he passively watched the news, as had been his routine for the last week. Occasionally, Reno added in details that the reporters left out, proving that he was a very well-informed man. Most of the broadcast consisted of the growth of Edge, and the upswing of its economy, thanks in part, they claimed, to the small storefronts of the Business District. According to the report, one business in particular was celebrating a one-year anniversary of its grand re-opening. Reno pointed with his chopsticks at the screen casually.<br>"That place is good. The owner, had a place in Mid-Town, back before..."  
>Vincent only nodded once, and Reno went back to eating, forgetting the small talk momentarily. Silence was not in his nature, though, and he was soon gearing up for a weighty question. It came during a mind-numbing Shinra Electric Company commercial.<br>"What will you do...now?"  
>Vincent's brow flashed a furrow, his quiet paranoia whispering endings to the question.<br>What will you do now that it's over? Now that she's dead? Now that you're only a burden to the few who still know your name?  
>"The WRO will need help rebuilding..." he answered, hardly believing the words himself.<br>"Right..." Reno countered, collecting the paper boxes and heading toward the kitchen. As he turned back toward the living room, he stopped and watched Vincent's back for moment. He seemed to fold into himself in Reno's absence, as if whatever invisible forces held him up with others, could not sustain his weight when alone. And in that subtle sinking posture, Reno felt a pang of sympathetic remorse. He swallowed it down quickly, feeling annoyed at such a response. He sighed, and headed back into the room, watching Vincent's spine lengthen again.  
>"Alright," he said, sucking in a breath and balancing on his chair's armrest. "When will you call it?"<br>Red eyes burned into him.  
>"If you put as much energy into moving on as you're sacrificing to...whatever this is...I think you'll find life much easier. You don't speak, you hardly eat, I can't believe how much you sleep. Sorry, man, I know you like it here 'cause I leave you alone, but we're goin' on a month...you gotta do something."<br>He expected Reno to explain how Vincent's behavior was affecting him, much like Cid had done toward the end of his stay in Rocket Town. He expected to be given the "cheer up or move on" ultimatum. It did not come. Instead, Reno made another proposition.  
>"Why don't you put your energy into something nice for her? A memorial."<br>Vincent blinked at the word.  
>"A celebration," Reno corrected. Vincent did not protest, but simply considered where he would head next. Perhaps back to Nibelheim, to claim the property that he deserved more than anyone in Shinra. He could renovate it with the money he had stored away in a Wutaian bank. Thirty five years of interest would have benefited his funds-<br>"Where?" Reno continued, interrupting his train of thought. "I'll fly you. Just tell me where you want to go."  
>"Why are you doing this?" Vincent asked.<br>Reno was quiet for a long moment, looking at his hands. He did not look up again when he answered.  
>"She deserves it. You do, too. You have to commit yourself to this world, man. Stopping worrying about all the things that are out of your control." His signature playful tone returned with, "Besides, I can't have you turn in on yourself and go crazy. The monsters would take over and all hell would break loose and I'd have to clean up the mess. I don't have that kind of time. So, where to?"<br>Such casual mention of his demons struck Vincent in such a way that tugged at the corners of his lips.  
>"The Canyon."<p>

.

The sky's few clouds were streaked with golds and reds when Vincent stepped out of Cosmo Inn. Though he had not spent much time in the Canyon, the atmosphere felt peculiar. The air was thick, though occasionally, a chilled breeze would send collective goosebumps through the village. The sun had descended behind the far mountains, but still lit the sky enough to cast a warm glow over the red ground. A small fire had been started in the center of the town. He approached the fire pit cautiously, still uncertain that he belonged there. An older man sat at the far edge of the circle, holding a photograph and wooden pipe. He sat alone, watching the flames, transfixed in thought.  
>"He recently lost his father," a familiar voice explained. Vincent turned, and watched Nanaki approach, glad to see a familiar face after Reno had been called back to Edge.<br>"He came to the fire for release from his grieving. When he is ready," the feline explained, sitting down close to Vincent's legs, "he will place his father's belongings in the fire, and be free of the weight."  
>"The weight?" Vincent asked, watching the man.<br>"The weight of mourning, blame, anger. Death. It casts a heavy shadow on those it leaves behind. But if you did not know the power of the flame, I have to wonder why you came here."  
>Vincent lowered himself to the ground, now just below eye-level with Nanaki. Silence filled the space between them for several long moments. Only when they both looked into the fire did Vincent feel ready to answer.<br>"I suppose I'm in the shadow."  
>"And you want back in the light." It was not a question.<br>"So I say. And yet I came here, where she came alive to me for the first time. I followed her here two years ago..."  
>Low thunder rolled in the distance.<br>"Perhaps you have again." After a long pause, Nanaki continued.  
>"My apologies. I suppose it is unfair of me to fan those flames. But such is my heritage. We do not believe that physical absence coincides with loss. That man now has a guardian waiting for him in the lifestream that will make his own passing an easy transition, when the time comes. He has a spirit watching over him until then, to give him strength to carry on. Burning the belongings is symbolic of accepting that new relationship. From the fire comes new life."<br>As Nanaki finished his thought, he looked to the sky. More dry thunder rolled, louder this time. He laughed quietly, from his throat. Vincent turned to look at him, curious of the joke.  
>"Sometimes...for both sides. If you believe in that sort of thing."<br>With that, he padded to the edge of the circle and lay down, leaving Vincent to the fire.  
>He watched as the other man stood, kissing the photograph. With a deep breath and closed eyes, the man gently tossed the items into the fire. Blue sparks flew into the air as the flames consumed the photo and pipe, and the expression of sorrow on the man's face turned into one of joy and relief. He smiled into the sky, turned, and disappeared into the darkening village.<br>Vincent longed for that expression to take over his own features, and the feeling that went with it to fill his now-lean frame. He stared into the fire, his eyes finding images in the smoke that rose: bodiless wings, unreadable writing, a phoenix. A sigh of appreciation fell from him, and he stood, pulling from his pocket the only physical reminder he had.  
>He scanned the village, recalling with striking detail the long night he had spent there two years before. Behind him, the stairs on which he stood, watching her breathe fire; to his right, the long-gone fire pit around which they had danced; to his left, the bar at which she had blessed him with the gift of survival he now considered a curse. "Are you going to continue in this shadow?" she had asked him on that very night.<br>Shaking the thought from his head, he looked back down at his own artifact.  
>The cryptic riddle was engraved in his mind, as he had spent hours thinking of nothing else. He turned his head slightly, catching Nanaki's eye.<p>

"Cerberus guards the gates of Hell," he said over his shoulder. Nanaki raised his head.

"Yes."

"From whom?"

Nanaki was quiet for a thoughtful moment. He sighed and finally replied, "I suppose one could say the creature stands on the outside, keeping out those who do not belong. But I find it more likely he faces inward, keeping the demons at bay and protecting the innocent."

"I thought so, too," Vincent agreed before falling silent for several minutes more.

His skin welcomed the warmth of the fire as he stepped closer. A distant thunder provoked him to finally raise the letter to his lips, before releasing it into the flames.  
>Dark blue sparks spiraled upward from the fire, taking with them the ache in his chest, the tightness of his shoulders, the clench of his jaw, and the lump in his throat. A fresher air filled his lungs to their limit, igniting his spirit and clearing his mind. He held the breath, his eyes closed in a mild euphoria, and let his head fall back. Finally, he released the breath, and as it rushed past his lips, his eyes opened just in time to witness a thick bolt of lightning cross the dark sky, branching out into hundreds of smaller lines and lighting up the village like a white hot sun.<br>As he turned from the fire, walking back toward the inn, he could have sworn he caught a grin on Nanaki's face.

.

"I knew her as a child. I was not close with her family, but I was around when Shinra became interested in her. We all knew about Penelope's...disappearance, and the entire village agreed to protect the Marx family. You should know, it was no small task, convincing the entire town to hide Aria's identity to Shinra."  
>"The first time I came here with her...several people seemed to know her as 'Aria,' though to the rest of the world she had been 'Penelope' for years. It is incredible that the facade was maintained as long as it was. Nearly ten years..." Vincent mused, finding it suddenly easy to talk about whom he had lost.<br>"To protect her secret. To protect us from her secret. If Shinra had done to her what they did to Sephiroth...I wonder if we could have possibly survived. But because her parents were very wise and willing to make a very difficult choice, she was given a normal life. Or, I suppose, as normal a life as a hero can ask for."  
>Vincent rested his head against the back of the only leather chair in the inn's lobby. "She would not like you calling her a hero. She would tell you that anyone else would have done the same."<br>"I credit those few glimpses of humility to her parents. I know they are proud. You should be as well."  
>Vincent nodded once before closing his eyes in a contented sleepiness.<p>

.

"Feel lighter?" Reno asked in a chipper voice as Vincent climbed into the Shinra helicopter only two hours later.  
>Red eyes flashed a smile-less, though much warmer expression than the Turk had ever seen.<br>"Good. To celebrate, I got reservations at that restaurant that was on TV. And I called in an old friend to discuss a possible business venture."  
>"I cannot understand your kindness, but I value it greatly."<br>Reno snorted and shook his head, raising the chopper and heading toward Edge.  
>"You're welcome, 'yo."<p> 


	39. Renaissance

Reno sat back, satisfied, and ran his fingers along the stem of his wineglass. Reeve pushed his plate toward the center of the table, sighing in contentment, glad to have been called to the impromptu business dinner. Vincent had only eaten half of his meal, but it had sent warmth and comfort through his entire body. Somehow, Reno thought, it was not surprising that Vincent Valentine's idea of 'comfort food,' was easily the most expensive meal he had eaten in years. The light, fresh colors of the restaurant, the richness of the wine, and the white candles decorating white-clothed dining tables sent a rejuvenating energy through him.  
>"You know, Juno was a friend of hers. An acquaintance, really," Reno explained, casually changing the topic from the WRO's growth to something he knew more about: people.<p>

"She knew him back when he worked for Shinra, catering events and the like. I never really thought about what might've happened to him, until I heard that he was opening this place last year. I was never in the old one, but I like this place," Reno said, watching well-dressed women mingle at the bar across the dining area.

"It is very different. Grey Haus was not as...bright. The tables were dark wood, with history. Now they are covered with easily-replaceable cloths," Vincent explained. "The scratches on the furniture told stories of the people who had passed through."  
>"Well, maybe they didn't feel that all that darkness was fitting, anymore. It's a new city, a new start. They named it 'Renaissance' for a reason, you know. You don't do well with change, huh?" Reeve teased.<br>Vincent smirked at the observation. "Perhaps not."  
>"It's time you started embracing it, friend. A new world is just on the horizon. Cleaner energy, peace-time between the regions, in every city. The crime rate is lower in Edge that it ever was in Midgar. A steady position with the WRO means plenty of travel, a flexible schedule, and knowing that you're making a positive impact on the world as the era of uncertainty wanes. We can offer you an apartment here in Edge. You can put down some roots."<br>Reno leaned back in his chair as the waitress dropped off the check.  
>"Where do I apply?" the redhead asked smoothly. "That's a hell of a sell."<br>"I'm afraid you're too valuable to Shinra...I couldn't possibly steal you away," Reeve said, his tone providing the message his words did not.  
>"Cloud and Tifa have the delivery service and 7th Heaven. Barret is helping out in Corel, Cid is growing a flight empire, Yuffie has Wutai to care for. What do you have?" Reeve pressed, working hard to convince Vincent to join his cause.<br>"Call me when you actually have work for me. I will not commit to a full-time position."  
>Reno and Reeve cheered for the agreement, causing Vincent to shake his head.<br>"You'll be glad to come on with the Organization. And we'll be glad to have you," Reeve promised. Vincent nodded once, close to believing him.  
>The meal ended on a positive note as Reeve promised a phone call in the near future, and Reno immediately promised to get Vincent a cell phone. With a firm handshake and a hopeful smile, Reeve said his goodbye, leaving Reno and Vincent to sit at the white table over two glasses of wine. Jokes were made at several young ladies' expense as teal eyes scanned the restaurant.<br>"I guess everyone comes here lookin' for people with money. Rich dates for the weekend. Can't say I blame..." Reno trailed as a waitress approached with two stout glasses of clear liquor.  
>"What do we have here?" he asked. The waitress smiled and set both glasses down in front of Vincent.<br>"These were ordered for you by a respected guest. Enjoy, sir," she said, leaving the table before either man could ask about the sender.  
>"Both, for you? What the hell?" Reno objected, looking over Vincent's shoulder into the bar area once again.<br>Vincent furrowed his brow as he raised a glass to his nose. "Liquid diamonds," he said absently. Reno cocked his head.  
>"Really? Never took you for a drinker. What is it?"<br>Vincent shook his head, unable to answer, and set the glass on the table, watching ripples dance across the drink's surface. As he stared at the glasses, he missed Reno straighten his back upon locking eyes with the aforementioned respected guest. He paid no attention to the loss of Reno's breath, or the subtle shake of his head.  
>"I, uh...I forgot to call the boss when we got back. I'll...be right back," Reno explained distantly, standing from his seat and taking one long look toward the bar before walking to the door.<br>Golden claws tapped the edge of one glass while Vincent reflected on the meal. He inhaled deeply at the notion of putting one foot in front of the other, finally setting his sights on a future. As he breathed, his nose caught a hint of warm citrus that forcefully dragged him from his tired haze. His ears tuned in to one particular pattern of footsteps as they approached from behind as his heart sped, threatening to burst from his chest. Crimson eyes dilated as leather-clad legs came into his peripheral vision.  
>For half of Avalanche, peace came in settling down with family. For the others, it manifested as dreams became successful, meaningful businesses. For Vincent, happiness came in a cool wave of three words, spoken smoothly, lightly, and with a playful edge that lit his senses.<br>"This seat taken?"

For the first time in thirty-two years, Vincent's mouth pulled into a genuine, heartfelt smile. And as he looked up into lavender eyes, his own began to glow.


	40. Epilogue: Pandora

As night settled over Edge, the lights in the apartment remained dim. The two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows allowed the artificial glow of the city to battle for dominance over the light of the crackling fire in the dark brick fireplace.

"Well, I think it's beautiful. I never was one for apartments, but you'll fill it in," Tifa said as she re-entered the sparsely-decorated living room. Near the fireplace, a dark leather couch sat angled diagonally, allowing one to view both the fireplace and the windows simultaneously. A single end table stood at the end farthest from the fire, holding five mugs of warm cider, intricately positioned to tell one from the other. Reno and Cloud sat farthest from the fire in collapsible camping chairs, Nanaki lying on the floor between them. Tifa reclaimed her position at the far end of the couch and sipped her cider.

"This is nicer than my place, for sure. I mean, it will be, if you buy any furniture," Reno

added, nodding. "The WRO did right by you. And for what, a half-assed commitment to patrol the city? Outrageous."

"I pay for the flat. It was not just handed to me."

"You pay a discounted rate," Reno objected playfully.

"Are you saying I should pay more than I am asked? I'm no fool, Reno," Vincent explained with mastered condescension. He sat back against the couch on the light wooden floor and a long arm wrapped around his chest from above.

"Don't indulge him," Aria whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear. Her fingers ran through the hair draping over his left shoulder. She had not left his side in the last four weeks. His right hand raised to touch her arm, instinctively confirming her presence. The habit had proven hard to break.

"So," Reno started again after a beat, "Can I expect to see you all at the Shinra Spring Gala? The publicity will be phenomenal."

Cloud sighed. "Count me out."

Reno shot a look at Tifa, who could only muster an expression of apology in return.

Nanaki knew he need not answer, leaving Reno to turn his sights on the pair nearest the fire. Aria smiled.  
>"I'm shocked we're invited," she admitted. He snorted at the suggestion.<br>"Water under the bridge. A peace offering and a chance to wear a pretty dress all wrapped up in a hundred-dollar dinner."

"We'll be there. No photos."

"Never," Reno replied, satisfied with his catch. "With that settled, I have some other business to attend to this evening, so I bid you all adieu," he said, rising to his feet and crossing the barren apartment to the front door.  
>"Tell Rufus 'hello,'" Aria called after him, her head raised just enough to see his middle finger fly high as he let the door fall closed behind him.<br>"Such a Turk," Tifa teased as Aria rested her head back on the arm of the couch.  
>"Must be in my blood," Aria replied, tightening her arm around Vincent. He closed his eyes against the touch.<br>"Well, I suppose we should get on, too. Barret is bringing Marlene by tonight..." she implied, standing with Cloud. Aria and Vincent rose as well. Cloud shook Vincent's hand and gave a single nod.  
>"Good to see you," the younger man said. Vincent nodded and released his hand just as Tifa encircled him in her arms.<br>"I don't have the words," she said quietly into his shoulder. He patted her back and shook his head at her reaction to his new, peaceful life.  
>Aria and Cloud only nodded to one another, forgiveness not yet succumbing to forgetfulness. She was caught off-guard when Tifa turned the hug on her, holding her tightly in surprisingly strong arms.<br>"And it's...wonderful...to see you again."  
>Aria smiled into her hair. "You, too, Tifa."<br>The shorter woman pulled away and looked Aria up and down.  
>"Come out for dinner sometime. I would love to have everyone together again. 'Til then, take care of each other."<br>As the door closed behind the pair, Nanaki stood and stretched his back.  
>"I hope you return to Cosmo soon, now in better condition. The news of the Remnants spread, and many have asked about you."<br>"I will. Soon. How could I miss another Harvest?" she asked, petting his head. Vincent had not seen anyone touch the feline in such a way before. He and his companions seemed to go out of their way to treat him like a human. Nanaki leaned into the touch, and Vincent suddenly felt guilty for depriving him of such reassurance.  
>"When you're ready, there are still tales to be told about your history."<br>Her brow flashed a furrow and Vincent wrapped his arm around her shoulder.  
>"Soon. Not tonight."<br>Nanaki nodded and headed for the door, bidding a warm farewell.  
>Aria and Vincent returned to the couch, her head in his lap, his hand in her hair, four eyes on the fire. They were quiet together, as they often were, each exploring their own wild trails of thought. Finally, the silence was broken. Vincent did not look away from the fire when he spoke.<br>"You were there, in Cosmo. That was your quiet place."  
>"Yes."<br>"Tell me," he said softly, beckoning for the fifth time to hear her experience of those agonizing weeks. Each time before, she had sighed and smiled a tired smile, evading the request with a small shake of her head. Now, he had a foothold on the story, and she could not turn him away.  
>"I could feel it in the City, like something caught fire inside of me and was spreading every day. I was exhausted, trying to fight it, or even just ignore it. But I knew what the temple, what the planet, had told me. I had done my job. When Sephiroth was killed, Jenova was ready to leave my body for a weaker, more manageable host, and start the process over. That was the path of least resistance. Obviously, I didn't let that happen. So instead, it grew stronger, I suppose making the most of its situation, and tried to take over my body. I couldn't be in Edge with that pain. I would have hurt more than I helped. I made you leave so I could get to Cosmo. The cave of the Gi was the only place I knew nobody would find me: nobody had access to it...except,"<br>"Bugenhagen," Vincent completed the thought. She nodded.  
>"Before he died, he gave Nanaki sole access to the Cave, only to be used in the case of emergency, of course."<br>"How could you have known that?" he asked, suddenly questioning how closely she had watched Avalanche as a Turk.  
>"I didn't. I went to him in desperation, trying to explain what was happening as best I could. He was skeptical, but I guess I looked just derailed enough to convince him I needed to be sealed away."<br>"But why? What happened?" he asked, running his fingers along the back of her arm.  
>"A war...between Jenova and my body, sapping my strength, my ability to heal, everything. My bones seemed to splinter at the gentlest grazed. I furthered a fracture in each shin with every step I took. My skin was..." an involuntary shudder shook her shoulders, "not as nice to look at anymore, peeling and scabbing for no reason. By the time the door sealed behind me, I could hardly walk. I crawled just far enough in to reach the Red Pools so that if I started to lose it, I could just..." Her words trailed, but her fingers made a rolling motion. He wanted to oppose, to fail to understand the suicidal nature of her thoughts, but her rationale felt uncomfortably familiar. Once upon a time, he had longed for access to his own Shinra-Issued triple-barrel pistol, with just one single bullet, and the unlikely stamina to hold his own arm in the air long enough to pull the trigger.<p>

"But I didn't," she continued, shaking him from his consuming fragmented memories, "I stayed on my side and stared into those burning pools, into that warm red, and thought only of you."

At this, he involuntarily cracked a smile from the side of his mouth, leaning his head back slightly in skepticism.  
>"You're lying."<br>She flew up in defense, sitting up straight, staring a hole through him. "I'm not! I truly only thought of you." Her face softened as she leaned backward into the plush arm of the sofa, her bare feet resting in his lap. "I'm not saying I was always thinking..."  
>"That's what I thought," he answered, a part of him shocked that they could discuss such horrors so lightly, another part of him amused at the same.<br>"I only want to tell this once, so just listen politely, if you don't mind."  
>He raised his right hand silently, bowing his head away. Before she continued, the air thickened again, and his chest ached for her. She took a deep breath.<br>"It was...messy. Painful. Genuinely horrifying." Her adjectives, surprisingly, did not end in a pause, but in the rest of the explanation.  
>"My lungs burned for days, my chest felt like it was going to cave at any time. And somehow, it got worse before it got better. My skin began coming off in these...layers. When that started, I figured I wasn't far from my date with the devil. But, every time it peeled away, I saw what was underneath, in the sticky, sore redness."<br>His fingers, flesh and metal, came to rest on the wings decorating her ankles. She nodded with a grin.  
>"Me. I was underneath, in the body that I had carefully designed myself. As crazy as it sounds, I felt better and better the more I lost. Eventually, all that bright, pretty skin burned away. And there I was, marked and scarred as ever before, more exhausted than I've ever been." He wanted to interject, to sweep away the hint of insecurity and eloquently express how much fonder he was of her current form. He held his tongue, making a mental note to tell her later.<p>

"I slept- no, let's be honest, I passed out- on the ground in there for...I don't know how long. It was dreamless, dark, numb, oddly lucid for as heavy as I felt. Like I couldn't feel anything, but I knew I wasn't feeling. I woke up to what I assume was a huge bolt of thunder outside. When I came out, Nanaki was sitting with Seto, watching a helicopter leave the town. Absolutely not waiting for me, as he does not spend energy on lost causes," she added, seemingly quoting their friend. Vincent nodded at the sentiment, now buzzing with the need to speak.

"He told me he had kept his promise not to tell you where I was, and that he would continue to keep it, so it was up to me to...what did he say?" She closed her eyes in thought, remembering the odd quote. "It was up to me to...justify any flames he may have fanned."  
>When she opened her eyes, Vincent's fingers had fallen over his mouth and his head was slowly turning from side to side. When he lowered his hand, he revealed a small smile.<br>Her head angled inquisitively. He noticed, and shook his in return.  
>"How unlike him to be so vague," Vincent said, choosing to hold his side of the story for another night. She smiled again and crawled into his lap, wrapping her long arms around his neck.<br>"All that matters now is that it's over. You're here, I'm here, in the same room, with nothing to distract us anymore."  
>He pulled her tightly against him and closed his eyes. He could not agree more.<p>

.

Time passed quickly without the world's weight on their shoulders. Vincent patrolled the crumbling remains of Midgar for the WRO; Aria found work all over Edge, helping to fix up family business one week, teaching self-defense classes at a local gym the next. She offered every service but deliveries, yet always recommended a fellow freelancer. Vincent often showed up at her job site to help, only to disappear when she could manage the work on her own. Aria became a well-known figure around the local shops, and more often than not, at least one woman working in these businesses would ask about Vincent. When Aria tried to explain his affect on her female employers over dinner one evening, he adamantly refused the claim.  
>Reno, on behalf of a very distant Rufus, offered them both positions in the new Shinra Incorporated. While they remained friends with the Turks, both Vincent and Aria shuddered at the thought and graciously declined.<br>The apartment filled slowly but evenly as they each came across pieces of furniture and decor that spoke true to themselves. Bright splashes of color accented dark wood furniture as Aria routinely brought home pieces from local artists and Vincent paid top dollar to have custom-made tables and cabinets built by an aging Cosmo craftsman.

Life settled in peacefully. When they wanted to work, they worked. When they wanted to hide away at home, they did so. Aria began to cook, often unsuccessfully, and they ate together at regular times. They spent most evenings on their balcony, overlooking Edge, and just a bit of Midgar, each with a glass of wine, learning small pieces of each other: favorite color, best memory of childhood, most irrational fears, and so on. Peace suited them well.  
>One late spring afternoon, Aria had decided to organize the outside storage closet while Vincent was out. The project was less daunting than she imagined, as upon opening the white door, she found only three plastic boxes: spare linens, ammunition, and books waiting for their custom bookcase to be delivered. Behind the stack of boxes were three gun cases, which she recognized, and a small accessories case, which she did not. Curiosity never took long to get the better of her, and she pulled it out onto the balcony, sitting down in front of it.<br>The case had no lock, and unlatched easily. As she raised the top of the case, metals of all kinds sparkled back at her. From her studies in Shinra training, she recognized every piece in the case, and named them as her fingers brushed along their surfaces: Fire ring, Peace ring, Protect ring, an Amulet, a Talisman, a Cursed ring. Along the bottom of the black foam, a red Ribbon lay straight. She did not touch it, but ran her hands along the edges of the black plastic. Her fingers grazed a small lever at the edge of the case, indicating a hidden compartment underneath. After popping it open, she smiled. The bottom compartment contained a white cape, folded tightly. Must have been a gift. He would never wear it, she thought, pulling out the strikingly soft material from the black case. As it came loose, a small black box fell from within the folds. The small thud it made as it hit the balcony resounded in her ears.

Aria jumped up and backward, staring down at the box as though it had burned her. Suddenly paranoid, she stuck her head back into the apartment to ensure she was alone. Her eyes locked again on the box, and she took a deep breath, convincing herself that she was acting like a fool.  
>"Pull it together. It's a valuable battle ring. He never got a box for the others, or they'd be packed up, too," she said to herself, leaning forward.<br>"It's not locked up. He doesn't mind. ...He doesn't mind." Her arm moved slower than her mind as she picked up the black box.

It seemed to weigh a ton in her flat palm. She ran her fingers along an embossed line bordering the top. In a single blink, she envisioned a white dress, a beach, flower petals on the sand, the crisp lines of a black tuxedo on Vincent's lean form. A smile crept onto her face, and she bit her bottom lip, pulling the top of the box upward.

"Careful, Pandora."

She snapped the box closed before it even came open and jumped back against the railing of the balcony. Vincent leaned on the doorframe with an eyebrow arched.

"What is this?" she demanded, her voice harsh with pumping adrenaline. He smirked and stepped forward, pinning her against the railing. Instead of answering, he covered her lips with his own. Her hands lowered as she relaxed into the kiss, giving him just the opportunity he needed to snatch the box from her grip, turn on his heels, and walk back inside.

"It's not yours," was his only explanation as he disappeared into the darkening living room.

.

Obsession overcame her as every thought seemed to weave its way back to the black box. She cursed herself for not simply popping it open when she had the chance, and simultaneously thanked the gods that she had not been so reckless. The question consumed her, and amused Vincent to no end. He wore a permanent smirk that she found both irresistible and unbearable.

She took a variety of approaches, from humor to seduction to threats of violence, and he, unsurprisingly, was unfazed. His answer remained the same: "You'll be sorry to know if I tell you."

"That's my choice, my consequence to suffer. Just tell me what it is!" she cried.

"It is... not yours," he would say coolly.

The game continued for weeks until Vincent casually suggested they leave the city for a weekend. Her bag was packed before she even knew where she was going.

"I had no idea Cosmo even had places like this. They've really done some work around here..." Aria mused as she looked out the window of the suite that overlooked all of the Canyon.

"What's the occasion?" she pressed, her back turned to Vincent, who was hanging his cloak in the large cedar closet. She felt the red eyes burn into her back and grinned.

"Space. That city seems to close in on me after a while. You're just along for the ride," he teased dryly.

"Fair enough. I say we get dinner to go at Stella's, bring it back here, and eat in bed," she suggested, turning from the window to Vincent, expecting him to reject the idea for an upscale meal in a private corner of the CosmoPolitan.

"Okay," he replied, smirking when she visibly sighed, grabbed his hand, and led him out of the room. 

The village was buzzing with weekend excitement as people headed out to the local pub for the night, calling across the fire pits to one another, making plans at great distances. Aria weaved through the bodies easily, Vincent a step behind.

"There will be line. There was always a line. If we make it early enough, we might be okay," she explained over her shoulder. Vincent nodded once and chose to watch the people he flew past instead of the direction he was headed: Aria was doing that for him. His wandering eyes narrowed, then widened quickly as a tall man dressed entirely in black military-style clothing fell into Aria's body.

A brassy claw gripped the man's bicep quickly, pulling him away roughly. The dark man reached out for Aria, clawing at her clothes desperately, coughing and wheezing in pain. Vincent instinctively moved the man into an empty alley between two shops.

"No...I've waited for you..." he choked out, gripping Aria's forearm for dear life. She looked quickly between the man and Vincent, who was palming his hip for an absent gun.

"You're not...alone," he said hoarsely, his eyes flying up at her face and back at the ground, where his unsteady feet barely held him upright.

"Who are you?" she asked as Vincent tore him away from her and held him up by the back of his neck.

"I'm dying. No Mako. This body is done. But you. You must know...you are not alone."

She shook her head frantically, looking into the man's face and realizing how gaunt he appeared. His skin was ghostly gray; dark circles shadowed his eyes.

"What do you mean you waited for me? How do you know who I am?" she demanded, gripping his shoulders in return.

"Marx...the other...Project G...Valentine...They are coming," he wheezed, swaying in and out of consciousness, trying to look back at Vincent, who refused the eye contact.

"How do you know our names?" she asked more forcefully. He gasped and coughed blood onto her shirt before slumping in Vincent's grip.

Vincent lowered him to the ground, and looked up at Aria. Her eyes were wide with terror and confusion.

"I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner."

The pair looked toward the village and saw Nanaki approaching quickly.

"This man has been stalking around Cosmo for a week. I normally do not notice such visitors, but he stood out to me. That uniform seemed unsettling, and for good reason. I heard some of what he said...and I suppose it's time you hear the rest of your family history."

Vincent looked down at the dead man and read the silver pin on his black jacket.

"What is a 'Restrictor'?" he asked, simultaneously pulling a white badge from inside the man's thick coat.

"I'm afraid I don't know. I have someone coming to take care of him. Come with me. We'll get you cleaned up," he told Aria.

Half an hour later, Vincent and Aria sat across from the red feline in Bugenhagen's former living room.

"I lived here all those years ago, when you were a child," Nanaki started, more for Vincent's sake than Aria's. "My grandfather knew of your family, and was involved in...the incident. Your sister's disappearance in the cave...That story does not end where you believe."

Aria leaned forward, her arms on her thighs. "Tell me."

"Shinra was interested in researching your genetic makeup, as you seemed devoid of lifestream. Your sister, however, was not. Penelope was a normal child. When she wandered into the cave, she was presumed dead, and the coverup was designed to protect you from Shinra for as long as possible."

"There were no remains," Aria interjected, trying to predict where Nanaki was taking the story. She failed.

"There was no body to find. Shinra scientists reached her before the search parties even made it to the cave. They were working on a something similar to the Sephiroth Project. It was called-"

"Project G," Vincent finished for him. His eyes glossed over as he was taken back to his days as a Turk, being briefed in Shinra HQ on the two competing Jenova Projects.

"Yes. As far as I know, Project G was shut down long ago. Aria, I honestly cannot tell you what became of your sister. She may have been lost to experiments. Perhaps her memories were cleared and she was released. There is no way for me to know. But what you should know is that she did not die in that cave."

"Where did he come from? The Restrictor? If he was referring to Penelope...I might find her."

"From what I could tell, his accent sounded urban. Midgar, or, I suppose Edge. That could be arbitrary, though," Nanaki answered.

"Midgar," Vincent confirmed. As Aria and Nanaki both looked to him, he raised the white badge between his fingers.

"Believe it or not, Shinra security has not changed much in the last thirty years. I recognize the clearance badge. Shinra HQ."

"It's in ruins," Aria argued needlessly. Her words were met with a shrug.

"Even so, I know what this is."

"Perhaps you might do some digging. For now, though, that is all the information I can offer."

"What could have withstood Meteor? The building was destroyed," Aria mused. Vincent sensed the urgency filling her body.

"Perhaps the medical facilities beneath the building," he suggested. "Either way, we can hardly go rushing into an abandoned complex in the middle of the night. Let's go back to the room and think it through."

Aria reluctantly agreed, thanked Nanaki, and followed Vincent back to the luxurious suite. Hours later, the pair sat on the bed watching a news broadcast over takeout.

"The sixth in a series of disappearances took place at the former Shinra Headquarters in the remains of Midgar. According to one military search and rescue team member, civilians have been drawn to the condemned structure by abnormal sounds that seem to emanate from the building. President Shinra released a statement this afternoon assuring the people of Edge that there is no cause for concern..."

Vincent nor Aria felt the need to speak. Fueled by hope for a living sibling, Aria was already planning her trip to Midgar. Knowing her as he did, Vincent understood that she would not rest until she searched the building for herself. His escape from the city would be cut short. That, he did not mind. It was only as he palmed the black box in his pocket that he sadly sighed.


	41. ASCENSION

**It is coming. The sequel to _Parallel Paths_ is officially in progress, and I could think of no better place to announce it (and ensure that you all see it) than here, where it all ended half a year ago. _Ascension_ will take Vincent and Aria back to Gaia's urban jungle as they investigate the disturbances surrounding the ruins of Shinra's former Headquarters. What they discover will shake their foundations and place unexpected strains on the ties that bind, forcing them to turn to old friends for the strength to endure the horrors that have been growing beneath Midgar.**

**Included here is a teaser of the opening chapter of _Ascension. _Enjoy, and look for the official story soon!**

* * *

><p>Little affected the solid atmosphere of Cosmo Canyon. The constant rotation of new, studious faces had ceased years ago. Its current inhabitants had readily accepted a life of simplicity, happily relying on the planet to provide for them. In return, they cared immensely for the ground on which they lived. People tended to themselves, and often left others in peace, as peace served as the main goal for most of the natives. They cherished quietude and reflection as the purest paths to inner tranquility. Yet, one never felt overlooked when on that red plateau. The village had a way of making one feel protected without ever hearing another's voice. It did not need to ask what had brought its visitors. It had a way of simply knowing. And it knew why one man sat alone, staring into its legendary fire, a small black box in hand. He had come for peace of his own, and hoped that the same would be found for his counterpart.<p>

Attaining peace meant quieting voices in memories that still haunted him. The woman he had left sleeping alone had silenced them not long ago, lifting the familiar weight from his chest. She had led him across the globe in the last two years, enlisting him to aid in evading Shinra's Turks as they hunted down their rogue Officer, then engaging the company in handing over what remained of Jenova. She had tied him to her, igniting a passion once thought long dead, and then forced him to abandon her to fight the Remnants. He had felt a darkness nearly overtake him as he mourned her, and allowed himself to release her into the lifestream. And he reassembled his beliefs when she sauntered back into his life, a phoenix from its ashes.

As the pair had settled into a life of regularity, the ethereal sounds of another's voice returned. They came softly, slowly at first, then increased in intensity until he slept only two hours at a time. Soon, images long burned into his mind accompanied them, leaving him to stare blankly out at the cityscape of Edge until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. She had a way of bringing him back to reality, but the process had grown more challenging. Violet eyes tried to hide a sad understanding of his distant stares, but he saw easily through the facade, eventually finding her in occasional trances of her own. The pair maneuvered conversations around the lapses. She soon found an easy distraction in the black box.

He remembered the day with crystal clarity. The apartment was quieter than usual when he walked in. A package had been delivered for him, and sat, unopened on the kitchen counter. It was a new pair of black leather gloves. Aria had teased him for not shopping in public, and quickly received a lesson on the importance of customization in such accessories.

"One cannot assume an item designed for the masses will fit perfectly on anyone."

"So you order them by...finger length?" she teased.

"The manufacturer does not sell in Edge," he had replied, attempting to shut down the topic. She had had one more jab left.

"Might you save money by ordering just...one?"

The silence that followed built tension, until he finally answered, "I've tried. It's not an option."

He remembered her laugh, and grinned himself. It faded as his mind backtracked to the original memory.

The apartment was filled with fresh air, a light breeze coming from the opened balcony door. He stepped toward it and stopped, watching Aria discover his stowed belongings. He grinned and shook his head at her curiosity, then left for the bedroom to change clothes. When he returned, she had opened the bottom compartment of the accessories case and now stood frozen on the balcony. Had she left the white cape where it lay, he would have watched her try on his battle equipment all afternoon. But she had not. Instead, his eyes flashed wide as they fell upon the black box in her palm.

"Careful, Pandora."

Only when he finally blinked, did Vincent realize he had been staring into the Cosmo Flame for too long. His eyes burned as he held them shut. A face far softer than Aria's appeared, as it so often did, and he shook it away.

"Will you return to Midgar? To the ruins?" a comforting, familiar voice asked. Nanaki approached his side and sat, staring into the fire.

Vincent nodded once, his answer not one with which he was pleased.

"What do you think you will find?" Nanaki pressed. "Or perhaps I should ask, what do you hope to find?"

"Those questions do not warrant the same answer. I hope to find nothing. I hope to find all access to the headquarters blocked, and the building completely unoccupied." He paused, reflecting on a news broadcast he had heard earlier. _ The sixth in a series of disappearances took place at the former Shinra Headquarters in the remains of Midgar. According to one military search and rescue team member, civilians have been drawn to the condemned structure by abnormal sounds that seem to emanate from the building. _

"But?" asked Nanaki, waiting for the man's prediction.

"But...I fear it will not be that easy."

Nanaki dropped his head slightly. "I can understand any resentment you may have for me. My words have led Aria to connect her sister's disappearance with Project G. And now you are pulled right back into Shinra's shadow."

Vincent shook his head and faced Nanaki. "Do not apologize. You have given her hope."

"Yes. But often, hope is the heaviest weight to bear."


End file.
